


till our compass stands still

by dinosar



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Breaking Up & Making Up, Drinking, Emotional Constipation, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, I'll add more as I think of them, Light Angst, Long-Distance Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship, Love Confessions, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Pining, Romantic Friendship, Slow Burn, Texting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:57:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 77,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9131392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinosar/pseuds/dinosar
Summary: somehow, somewhere along the way, a line had blurred into something less distinct, and yuri had come to the sudden realization that maybe he was in love with his best friend.but of course, he'd had to realize it at the worst possible time.(a study of otabek and yuri's friendship as the years pass, and how it changes into something new)--Sara wipes tears from her eyes, still shaking with laughter, and lays her free hand on his shoulder as she turns him so that she can look him dead in the eyes. “You've got it bad, kid. I can't believe you haven't realized you're in love with him yet,” she wheezes, doubling over a little.His eyes go wide. “No, you've got it all wrong, he's my best friend―”“You need to be a little more self aware,” she cuts in, expression morphing into something a little more sympathetic as the laughter starts to subside. “Yuri, when Mila and I walked over, you were looking at him like he was the sun or something. That's not a look you give your best friend, I'm sorry to burst your bubble.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi im in hell
> 
> literally this fic was only supposed to be like 10k words at the most but?? as usual, im completely out of control and it's ballooned into something huge :') as we speak, im @ over 23k words,,,,,,,,,,,,
> 
> i marked that there will be 5 chapters, but honestly that's just a guess?? i actually have no idea how many there will be :') im guessing itll end up somewhere around 30k words, maybe more even, so buckle up, yall
> 
> and just as a disclaimer, nothing happens between them when yuri is underage, because honestly?? that's not how i roll. let the boy have a best friend, and maybe let it turn into something romantic later. u feel me?
> 
> as usual, title comes from a sleeping at last song bc i can't seem to come up with good titles on my own. this one comes from the song "west" :')

He'd been hesitant at first, but Yuri thinks that maybe friendship isn't really all that bad when it's with the right person.

 

Some might think it's sad that he's fifteen and has never had someone he could truly call a friend until now, but Yuri has never minded it. Figure skating has always been his main focus in life―everything else seemed unnecessary, unneeded. He's always just wanted nothing other than to support his family, although he's definitely come to love what he does. Besides, everyone his age has always seemed so immature, and he doesn't have the patience for them.

 

So yes, not having friends has never really bothered him, because he's always been too busy with skating anyway; and he's never exactly been the best at talking to or getting along with others anyway, what with his prickly personality.

 

But Otabek is...different.

 

Otabek skates too, amazingly at that, so that's one thing they have in common. And Otabek is quiet, thoughtful and unobtrusive, which Yuri appreciates because if there's one thing he can't stand, it's people butting into his life where they aren't wanted. It makes Otabek ridiculously easy to talk to, and although it's a weird, unfamiliar feeling, Yuri can't say he doesn't enjoy it.

 

At the banquet, after Yuri wins gold at the Grand Prix Final, Otabek congratulates him. And even though Yuri can see that he's disappointed in himself for not winning or even making it onto the podium, none of that leaks into his voice―he says it sincerely, genuinely happy for him. “You deserve it, it's clear that you've worked hard,” he adds, smiling. Yuri does his best not to stare at the tint of redness around the older teen's slightly puffy eyes, because he doesn't think Otabek really wants attention brought to it.

 

For some reason, the thought of Otabek crying makes Yuri's heart clench. He figures it's probably normal to not like it when a friend is sad, though, even a new friend, so he doesn't think about it too hard. “Thanks,” he replies, a little awkwardly. “I can't believe that bastard JJ got bronze, though. It should've been you,” he tacks on, grumbling. The bastard in question is across the room, being loud and obnoxious as usual. When he'd messed up his short program, Yuri had actually felt a little bad for him (although he'd never admit it to anyone). But now he's back to acting like he always does, plus he managed to make it to the podium, so Yuri feels nothing but annoyance at him. Otabek had been much better, more consistent, and he deserved the medal more―not that Yuri's biased because Otabek is his friend or because of his dislike for JJ, it's just the truth.

 

Otabek coughs out a tiny laugh, but there's a hint of something like gratitude in his eyes. “I'm glad you think so. I guess I'll just have to work harder next time, though...maybe then, we'll stand on the podium together,” he muses, tone warm.

 

 _Why am I blushing?_ Yuri asks himself silently. Shaking his head, embarrassed, he shuffles before crossing his arms, not looking at his friend's face. “Yeah, that would be cool, I guess,” he mumbles.

 

Otabek laughs again, louder this time. “Your enthusiasm is mind-blowing, Yuri.”

 

“Shut up,” Yuri snaps back immediately, and _no_ , he isn't pouting. “I'm plenty enthusiastic, asshole...”

 

Otabek smiles and _ruffles his hair_ , clearly not in any way afraid of Yuri, which is kind of frustrating but he likes Otabek so he supposes he can let it slide. “Oh, sorry, I guess I mistook your enthusiasm for indifference,” he teases, warmth in his brown eyes. “Forgive me.”

 

“I guess I can,” Yuri tells him, crossing his arms once more and turning his nose up. “This time, you're off the hook. But only this time, got it?”

 

Otabek nods. “Got it.”

 

Eventually, their coaches come calling for them―it's late, people are starting to disperse now, and they both have early flights. Before being dragged away, Yuri impulsively grabs Otabek's phone and saves his number. “Text me sometime,” he means to ask, although it comes out as more of a demand, nearly making him wince. He should probably work on that.

 

Otabek takes it good-naturedly, though. “I will, so you can have my number too,” he promises.

 

Satisfied, Yuri lets Yakov drag him back to his hotel room, where he's told to get packing. Lilia looks like she might have a heart attack when she sees the clothes strewn over nearly every surface of the room, but Yuri ignores her horror―he's a teenage boy, he's allowed to be messy.

 

His phone chimes as he's starting to stuff everything into his suitcase, not bothering to fold any of it (he can practically feel the meltdown Lilia would have if she saw). The number is unfamiliar, but he instantly knows who it is and adds it to his contacts.

 

_otabek: I'm texting you, as promised._

 

For some reason, Yuri feels...giddy. Maybe because he's never had a friend to just text before?

 

_me: that was fast_

 

It takes Otabek a few minutes to answer, which isn't that surprising―he seems like the kind of person who only really uses his phone when he needs it.

 

_otabek: Well, I didn't want you to think I'd forgotten. Anyway, I need to get packing, but you can text me anytime. Goodnight, Yuri, and in case we don't talk tomorrow, have a safe trip home._

 

 _me: you text like an old man_  
me: it's kinda funny  
me: but ok, goodnight  
me: i'll text you tomorrow

 

He locks his phone and throws it aside, feeling strangely energized from the short exchange. He gets everything packed in record time, leaving out only the clothes he's going to wear in the morning and his bag of toiletries. His gold medal rests on the nightstand, and he can't help it―he flings himself onto his bed, wrapping his arms around a pillow and burying his face in it to hide his grin.

 

_Take that, stupid Viktor and Yuuri._

 

* * *

 

After the Grand Prix Final and Worlds, when they can take a break from competing against each other, their friendship really starts to bloom. Late night Skype calls become a regular, almost nightly occurrence, and not a day goes by where they don't text each other. Otabek had been slow with his replies at first, but over time, they start to come faster. Yuri's sure he's never talked to one person so much in his entire life, about basically nothing, no less. It's almost frightening, how easily he gets along with Otabek, but he just goes with it―the last thing he wants to do is overthink and somehow lose the only good friend he's ever had.

 

That summer, Otabek invites him to Almaty for a week so that they can hang out and Yuri can see his hometown. They spend their days seeing the city on Otabek's motorcycle, skating, and just hanging out in Otabek's studio apartment. Yuri doesn't think he's ever had so much fun with a person in his entire life, and when the week ends, he almost doesn't want to leave and go back to just texting and Skyping.

 

When the Grand Prix Series rolls around a few months later, they compete in the Trophee du France together. Yuri only narrowly manages to score higher than him, winning gold by less than two points. They both manage to qualify, having both made it onto the podium in both of their events, as well as the piggy, Viktor, JJ and Phichit. Chris had taken a nasty fall and hurt his knee in his second event, so he'd been forced to drop out instead of qualifying like he should've.

 

In the Grand Prix Final, Yuuri finally gets his gold. Yuri, much to his annoyance, only manages to take bronze―Viktor had beaten him out for the silver medal. He swears he'll beat them the next time.

 

Otabek places right beneath him in fourth, but only narrowly. It's thrilling, knowing his best friend could beat him any time if he isn't careful―it makes things more exciting, makes him even more motivated.

 

After that, they go a few months without seeing each other again, going back to texting and Skyping when they have free time (which is rare, since they're both training for other competitions, but they make it work).

 

One morning, when he's finishing a training session at the rink, he sends a simple two word text.

 

_me: save me_

 

The reply comes almost immediately.

 

_otabek: What is it?? Are you okay??_

 

Yuri can't help but snort, knowing he should feel a little bad for scaring him, but he doesn't.

 

 _me: no, viktor and yuuri are disgusting_  
me: it's intolerable  
me: i need rescuing before i go insane  
me: all they do is give each other googly eyes  
me: and say gross shit when they think i can't hear them  
me: if i have to listen to any more gross comments about their sex life im literally setting myself on fire

 

He sends all the texts in rapid succession, all while trying to ignore Viktor and Yuuri lazily skating around together and laughing on the other side of the rink. He'd thought that maybe after almost a year, he'd be used to having to see them being gross together every day, but it's still just as intolerable as it had been when Yuuri first moved here.

 

“Who are you texting?” Mila pries as she skids to a graceful stop beside him, a foxlike grin on her face.

 

Yuri rolls his eyes, turning his phone away from her. “None of your business, you old hag. Go bother someone else,” he mutters.

 

She just grins wider, pinching his cheek. “I wonder when you'll lose this crappy attitude of yours,” she muses, sounding overly cheerful. “It was kinda cute when you were younger, but you're almost seventeen now. Now you just sound like an immature brat.”

 

His phone buzzes, but he doesn't look at it―not while Mila's around, because he knows she'll find something to tease him about if she sees him texting Otabek. “Ask me if I care,” he grumbles, pulling her hand from his face. “Did you need something, or are you just annoying me for no reason?” Having Viktor and Yuuri here is bad enough, he doesn't need her being annoying on top of it.

 

“You're just so charming, Yurotchka, I had to come talk to you,” she replies, tone layered in sarcasm.

 

“Funny,” he deadpans. “Why don't you go annoy those two idiots instead? Or Georgi?”

 

“It's more fun to bug you,” she answers with a shrug. “Plus, I don't think Viktor and Yuuri even notice anyone else when they're like this,” she adds, expression softening when her eyes land on the two of them. They're skating figure eights and holding hands, looking at each other as if they're the only people on the planet. It makes Yuri want to barf.

 

“ _Okay_ , so why not Georgi then?”

 

Mila sighs. “I think he's having problems with his new girlfriend, if I go near him he'll probably start crying about it to me immediately and I really don't feel like dealing with that.” As she's finishing her sentence, her phone chimes, causing her eyes to light up. “Oooooh, that must be Sara! I'm done here, thanks for the lovely conversation,” she sings before skating off toward the exit, lifting her phone to her ear.

 

Finally, he checks his phone.

 

_otabek: It would be nice if you didn't scare me, you know.  
otabek: Anyway, I'm sure it's not that bad, Yuri. They're getting married soon, what else did you expect?_

 

Scowling, Yuri lifts his phone and snaps a picture of the couple as they move to wrap their arms around each other, foreheads pressed together as they do lazy spins. He sends it to Otabek.

 

_me: look at this and tell me it's not gross as fuck_

 

Unable to take any more of it, he skates over to the exit. He's kind of hungry―maybe it's time to get some lunch.

 

His phone vibrates when he's unlacing his skates, and he glances over to read it before his screen goes black.

 

_otabek: I don't know, I think it's nice. They clearly love each other very much._

 

Abandoning his half-unlaced skate, he picks up his phone to reply.

 

 _me: gross, i never woulda pegged you for the mushy type_  
me: anyway, speaking of their wedding  
me: they invited you, right?

 

He finishes untying the skate, slipping his comfy, well-worn sneakers on and pulling his hood up. Yuuri and Viktor must finally notice that there is in fact other people besides them around, because Viktor calls out his name.

 

“Hey, Yurio! Are you going to go eat?” he asks, and Yuri feels his annoyance flare up.

 

“For the last fucking time, my name isn't Yurio!” he snaps, whirling around. “And yes, I'm going to get some food, so goodbye!”

 

“Wait!” Yuuri calls as Yuri is turning once more to leave, stopping him in his tracks. “I'm going to make katsudon for Viktor, you're welcome to come over and have some,” he offers.

 

He would rather saw off his own hand than spend unnecessary time around them, but...katsudon. “You're making food you're not even allowed to eat? What kind of shit logic is that?” he questions, glaring.

 

Yuuri laughs. “Well, Viktor wants it, so I don't mind making it even if I can't have any.”

 

Viktor wraps his arms around him from behind, nuzzling the back of his neck. “Maybe I'll give you a bite if you do another quad flip for me,” he coos, and Yuri almost throws up when Viktor proceeds to chastely kiss Yuuri's neck.

 

Screw the katsudon, it's not worth it.

 

“I think I'll pass,” he mutters, continuing toward the door. “Have fun being gross.” His phone vibrates, and he glances down.

 

_otabek: Yes, they invited me, why?_

 

Yuri sighs, shaking his head as he types out a reply.

 

_me: well?? are you going??  
me: please say you are, so i don't have to deal with them alone_

 

Not only that, but he _does_ wanna take any and every opportunity he can to hang out with his best friend. Texting is nice and all but it's not the same, and chances to see each other outside of competitions are rare. It's normal to wanna see your friends, right? They've been friends for over a year now, but he still questions things sometimes.

 

_otabek: I don't know them all that well. It's nice that they invited me, but I'd feel as if I'd be intruding._

 

Yuri scoffs, typing out his reply. A blast of cold air hits him as he steps outside, and he curses and one-handedly tugs his hood closer around his face.

 

 _me: dumbass, they wouldn't have invited you if they didnt want you there_  
me: you'll have me there if you feel uncomfortable  
me: and there will be lots of other skaters that you know bc i swear they invited every goddamn skater they know  
me: which is like, everyone  
me: the wedding isn't until summer so you have a few more months to think but i think you should come

 

The cold air is biting against his bare hands, and he curses himself for not bringing any gloves. Too cold to keep holding it, he tucks his phone into his pocket before sliding his hands in as well in an effort to shield them―if Otabek answers before he gets home, he'll have to wait for a response.

 

He rushes home as fast as he can, shivering almost violently when he finally steps into the warmth of the apartment complex where the room he rents is. Most of the skaters Yakov trains who aren't from St. Petersburg live in this building, renting single rooms or studio apartments. It's affordable and close to the rink, so it all works out.

 

He takes the stairs two at a time, wanting to get to his room so he can dump his bag there and then grab something to eat. As soon as he's there, he sheds his shoes and sweater and takes his phone out, checking for a reply. There's none―Otabek must be busy. Oh well, he's sure the reply will come sooner or later.

 

And it does, when he's in the middle of stuffing his face with the cereal he's eating since he'd been too lazy to actually cook. Swallowing what's in his mouth before wiping his mouth with a napkin, he lifts his phone.

 

_otabek: If you want me to go so badly, I guess I could. It's during the off-season, so my coach shouldn't have a problem with me missing a few days of training._

 

Yuri is pumping his fist in the air before he even realizes it, a giddy feeling spreading through his entire body. His typed response is much more subdued, though, because he's not about to embarrass himself.

 

 _me: sweet_  
me: you can just stay with me if you want  
me: the place i stay at the onsen is big enough for both of us, so you won't have to pay for a hotel

 

The response comes uncharacteristically quick.

 

_otabek: Thanks, Yuri, I'll keep that in mind. I've got to go for now to practice, but I'll call you on Skype later?_

 

Yuri grins. He's in a great mood, now.

 

 _me: sure_  
me: we can play games or something later  
me: don't slack off at practice, i expect you to be on the podium with me again in the near future

 

He can practically hear Otabek's quiet laugh in his reply.

 

_otabek: Yes, yes, you don't have to tell me twice. Don't you slack off, either―I plan on beating you next time, but I expect you to put up a good fight._

 

_me: you're such a shithead, get back to practice_

 

Locking his phone, he goes back to eating his cereal. It's nice, he thinks, having someone who he can be competitive with in a friendly way. There's no rudeness in the way they tease each other about beating each other―it's playful, and something Yuri's still not used to because with everyone else, he just cares about crushing them, screw being friendly.

 

He definitely likes it like this.

 

* * *

 

When July comes, Otabek flies in to St. Petersburg so that he and Yuri have a few days to just hang out before everyone flies to Japan for the wedding. Viktor drives Yuri to the airport to meet him, Yuuri tagging along as well, and it's impossible for the teen to hide his excitement. He hasn't seen Otabek since Worlds, which was only a few months ago but...still. Long distance friendships can be rough sometimes.

 

“You two can wait here,” Yuri tells them as he jumps out of the car, slamming the door in his excitement. He speedwalks into the airport, taking his phone out of his pocket.

 

_me: where are you?_

 

The response comes quickly.

 

_otabek: On my way to the desk, wait for me there._

 

It's probably only ten minutes that he waits, but it feels so much longer. When he finally sees Otabek, towing a large suitcase behind him with his carry-on slung over his shoulder, he can't help it.

 

He runs.

 

Otabek seems shocked by the hug Yuri gives him, and honestly, Yuri shocks himself by doing it. When had he gotten this comfortable with him?

 

“You made it,” he mumbles, feeling his face heat up. He doesn't want to let go, because then Otabek will see, but continuing to hold on to him is making him even more embarrassed, so...it's a problem.

 

Otabek lets go of his luggage to hug him back, a deep rumbling laugh echoing through his chest. “I did.” He gently pushes Yuri away, reaching up to ruffle his hair, and Yuri feels a little better when he sees that his cheeks are a little red, too. “I didn't realize you missed me that much, we talk every day...”

 

Yuri scowls. “Shut up! So I'm happy to see my best friend, sue me,” he grumbles, avoiding Otabek's deep brown eyes.

 

Otabek's answering smile is small, but Yuri knows he's happy. “No need to be testy, I missed you too.”

 

“Well...good.” Yuri grabs Otabek's carry-on from his broad shoulder, slinging it over his own and tilting his head toward the exit. “You're probably hungry, let's get out of here. The gross old people are waiting for us in the car,” he says, trying to ignore how happy he is to know that Otabek had missed him.

 

“Quick question,” Otabek begins as they head toward the exit. Yuri hums to show he's listening. “When did you get so tall? Last time I saw you, you were only a little bit taller than me...”

 

Yuri grins, looking down at him out of the corner of his eye. “Growth spurt,” he says smugly. “I'm 5'10” now,” he tells him proudly.

 

“Dammit,” Otabek mutters, and Yuri can't help but laugh.

 

Viktor and Yuuri greet Otabek enthusiastically after he's put his luggage into the trunk and gotten into the car, and Otabek shifts awkwardly as he returns the greeting. Yuri knows he's shy and not very good with people, and he feels a little bad for him, but Viktor and Yuuri are the kind of people you can't help but get used to after prolonged exposure to them so he's not too worried.

 

“Would you two like to come over for dinner?” Yuuri asks, turning around to smile at them.

 

“Depends. Will you make katsudon?” Yuri questions, raising an eyebrow.

 

Yuuri purses his lips, tapping his chin. “I suppose I could, if that's what you want. Is that alright with you, Viktor?” He turns to his fiance, laying a hand over the one Viktor has on the gear shift.

 

“I'm always alright with katsudon. Plus, you know I'll eat anything you make, _milaya_ ,” Viktor answers, and Yuri makes gagging sounds from the back seat.

 

Satisfied, Yuuri turns his attention to Otabek. “Is katsudon alright with you, Otabek?”

 

“Oh, ah, yes, that's fine,” Otabek replies after a second's pause, and Yuri can see his fists clench nervously in his lap.

 

When Yuuri nods and smiles before turning to make quiet conversation with Viktor, Yuri gently nudges his friend. “You okay?” he asks quietly.

 

Taking a deep breath, Otabek nods. “Don't worry, I'm fine.”

 

Deciding not to push it, Yuri pulls out his phone to play games for the rest of the drive to Viktor and Yuuri's apartment. Otabek quietly looks out the window at the city to pass the time, and Yuri thinks he should probably talk to him but he also knows that sometimes Otabek just needs a little silence to sort himself out.

 

Once they've parked, everyone gets out. Yuri again takes Otabek's carry-on for him, earning an amused but thankful smile. Viktor and Yuuri lead them into the building, holding hands because they're gross like that, and they step into the elevator and wait for it to get to their floor.

 

“I'm glad you decided to come for the wedding, Otabek,” Yuuri says as the elevator rises, offering a smile. “We're happy to have you, and I know Yurio is too.”

 

Yuri kicks him, earning a yelp, but Viktor just hugs his fiance, gently kissing his temple and hushing him before he laughs at Yuri's expense. “No need to get all embarrassed, Yurio,” he teases. “He should know that you've been talking our ears off about getting to see him again for the past three months, after all.”

 

The elevator stops, and with it comes the feeling of sinking into the floor momentarily before there's stillness, the doors opening immediately after. Yuri wishes he could sink into the floor right now, but alas, he lacks the ability to do so, so instead he's forced to suffer through his embarrassment. “He's my best friend, of course I'm excited to get to see him again you assholes,” he snaps before stalking out of the elevator, clutching the handle of Otabek's bag so tight that his knuckles go white. Curse those stupid, embarrassing assholes for exposing him like this.

 

“Thank you for inviting me, I'm happy to attend,” Otabek says graciously in response to Yuuri's original statement, and then Yuri hears him politely excuse himself and jog through the hallway to catch up, feels a hand grab his elbow lightly. When Yuri looks up, cheeks still burning with embarrassment, he finds a smile in those dark eyes. “If it makes you any feel better, I drove my coach crazy talking about coming here too,” he admits, letting go of Yuri's elbow to scratch the back of his head.

 

“...gross, you're so embarrassing,” Yuri mutters, but it lacks any bite. It takes everything he has to keep the smile from his face, because _yes_ , it _does_ make him feel a whole lot better to know that he isn't the only one who's been embarrassing himself with his excitement for the past few months.

 

Yuri stops outside of Yuuri and Viktor's door, Otabek stopping beside him, and they step aside to let Yuuri pass to unlock the door. As soon as he opens it, the sound of claws scrambling against hardwood can be heard, and Makkachin nearly plows Yuuri down in his excitement.

 

Yuuri laughs, ruffling the poodle's ears as he lets himself be kissed all over by the excited dog. “Yes, boy, I missed you too.”

 

“I swear, he loves you more than he loves me,” Viktor sulks, toeing his shoes off. “Can't say I blame him, though, because you're very lovable,” he concedes, leaning in to kiss Yuuri's cheek.

 

Yuri rolls his eyes. “Excuse me while I barf.”

 

Makkachin seems to notice at this point that Yuri's there, along with an unfamiliar person. Yuri lets him lick his hand when he sidles over, scratching his big, fluffy head, and then he's in front of Otabek, sniffing him and clearly deciding whether or not to lick him, too. Otabek holds a hand out for him to smell, obviously attempting to look as nonthreatening as possible, and it seems to work, because next thing you know, he's being shoved into a wall by the big dog and attacked with kisses all over his face and hands and wherever else Makkachin can reach.

 

“Hey, Makkachin! Down!” Viktor scolds, moving toward the dog to grab him by the collar.

 

Otabek laughs, eyes sparkling, and holds a hand up. “It's fine, I love animals,” he assures him, a little breathlessly―Makkachin had probably knocked the breath out of him when he jumped on him, he's kind of a heavy dog. “You're certainly a friendly boy, aren't you?” And Yuri nearly chokes on his own spit, because _deadass_ , Otabek is _cooing_ to this dog right now. “Oh, you're just a big sweetie, aren't you? Thank you for the kisses, boy,” he continues, rubbing his fluffy ears, and Yuri decides he's probably having a stroke because he's never seen Otabek so openly expressive in his life.

 

Otabek seems to realize what he's doing, because immediately, he goes so red that it starts to spread down his neck. His ears go so red they practically _glow_. “Sorry, I...” He clears his throat, gently pushing Makkachin off, and straightens his shirt. “I, uh, just really like animals,” he finishes, stammering a little, and Yuri can see him withdrawing himself again.

 

Meanwhile, Viktor's eyes are sparkling, hands clasped together over his chest. “I like you,” he declares, a wide grin on his face. “You like my dog, and my dog likes you, so I like you too.”

 

“Viktor, you're embarrassing him,” Yuuri gently admonishes him, but he's smiling, too, as he turns to Otabek. “Don't mind him, Otabek. Make yourself at home, hmm? I'll get started on dinner.” He looks back at his fiance. “Viktor, you can come and help me.” His tone leaves no room for disagreement from his fiance, not that Viktor _would_ disagree because he's disgustingly in love and will happily do just about anything Yuuri asks of him. “Yurio, would you mind showing him where the bathroom is so he knows?” he asks sweetly.

 

Yuri sighs, grabbing Otabek by the wrist. “Come on, follow me,” he tells him, practically dragging him away. “I'm sure you want a minute to yourself to freshen up or whatever after being on the plane and dealing with those two, so here.” He thrusts Otabek's bag out toward him, jerking his head toward the couch. “I'll be out here when you're done,” he promises.

 

Otabek takes his bag, still beet red. “Thanks,” he mumbles, flipping on the light in the bathroom and closing the door behind himself.

 

Yuri plops himself down on the couch, stretching himself along its length. Makkachin wanders over, looking for affection, and Yuri absentmindly scratches the top of his head as he fiddles with his phone and waits for Otabek to come out of the bathroom.

 

His phone vibrates rapidly three times after a moment, and Yuri's brow furrows when he sees that it's texts from Otabek.

 

 _otabek: I'm really embarrassed right now._  
otabek: It's like I somehow forgot there was people around for a second.  
otabek: I feel dumb, Yuri.

 

Rising from the couch, he pads over to the bathroom, knocking briskly. “Hey, let me in for a second,” he calls in.

 

It takes a few seconds, but then the door cracks open, and Otabek peeks out. Shaking his head, Yuri shoves his way inside and pushes the door shut again. He doesn't take the time to think about it―he just tugs Otabek against him, hugging him tight. “You're in the presence of the two most embarrassing people on the planet,” he says quietly, gently. He's pretty sure the only other person he's spoken to this way is his grandpa, and he wonders how Otabek is able to bring out this gentleness. “You don't have to be embarrassed, no one is going to make fun of you or anything. If anything, it made the two of them like you a lot more, because that dog is like their kid so seeing you treat him so nicely definitely earned you some points,” he explains, pulling back and reaching up to ruffle Otabek's thick hair, much like the older boy always does to him. “Don't worry, okay? You're fine.”

 

“I...” Otabek starts to speak, but seems to be lost for words. Instead, he just tugs Yuri in for another hug, squeezing him tightly enough that it's honestly getting hard to breathe, but he doesn't mind that much. Breathing isn't as important as making his best friend feel better, he thinks. “...thanks, Yura,” he finally mumbles a moment later, letting go.

 

Yuri blinks at the nickname, unable to hide his surprise, but quickly schools his expression into something more neutral. “No need to thank me, dumbass, I'm just telling it like it is...” he says lightly, shrugging. “That's what friends are for, yeah?”

 

Yuri is surprised when Otabek starts to laugh. Not his usual quiet chuckle, but a full-blown laugh that has his eyes crinkling in the corners, mouth open wide enough to show his teeth. “Yeah, I guess it is,” he agrees, and he looks brighter than Yuri's ever seen him. “But I'm going to thank you anyway, because I feel better now and I'm grateful. So just...accept it,” he continues, flicking Yuri's forehead, right between his eyes.

 

Yuri lets out a soft yelp, reaching up to rub the now tender spot. “Fine, you're welcome or whatever,” he grudgingly replies. “Now can we get out of the bathroom? The idiots are probably wondering what's going on, if they even noticed anything at all.”

 

Otabek nods. “I just want to brush my teeth first,” he answers, pulling his toothbrush and some toothpaste out of his carry-on bag. He brushes his teeth quickly, tucking his things back into his bag, and then they head back out into the main room of the small apartment.

 

Yuuri looks over his shoulder when he hears them, but thankfully, he doesn't say anything, and he keeps Viktor's attention so that he doesn't say anything either. It's times like these when Yuri thinks that yeah, Yuuri is actually pretty okay.

 

Yuri throws himself back down on the couch, taking up the whole thing by himself, and Otabek raises an eyebrow. “Is that your way of telling me to sit on the floor?” he asks.

 

Yuri grins, lifting his legs into the air so that there's room for Otabek to sit. “I suppose I can share the couch.”

 

Shaking his head in amusement, Otabek carefully sits down, and Yuri lets his feet fall onto his lap. “I feel like a glorified foot rest,” the older boy sighs, but he doesn't tell Yuri to move his feet or try to push them off.

 

“Could be worse,” Yuri shrugs, reaching for the remote. “What do you wanna watch?”

 

“I don't really care, put on whatever you wanna watch,” Otabek replies, shrugging. “I don't watch much tv, so I don't have a preference.”

 

“I'm sure there's a good movie on at least one channel,” Yuri says, flipping the tv on and immediately starting his search through the channels. After a few minutes, he finally settles on a random action movie he finds, figuring it should be good enough to hold their attention until dinner is ready. Yuuri and Viktor's conversation is a constant, low buzz in the background, and Makkachin is sitting on the floor beside the couch, chin resting beside Otabek's leg. Otabek scratches his head gently, keeping him content, and Yuri thinks this is actually kind of nice. Homey, even. He'd rather die than admit it out loud, but...Viktor and Yuuri are kind of like his family at this point. He gets annoyed with them, yes, but...still, they're family. And Otabek is starting to become something like that to him as well, so it's just...nice, he supposes, being here with everyone like this. He's never felt like this around anyone other than his grandpa, really.

 

“What are you smiling about?” Otabek questions, and Yuri's eyes widen―he hadn't realized he was smiling.

 

“It's nothing,” he replies immediately, shaking his head. “Just watch the movie.”

 

A small smile of his own tugging at his lips, Otabek nods, thankfully not pushing.

 

Soon the smell of food fills the small apartment, and Viktor calls them to the table. They all sit, Yuuri placing a bowl of katsudon in front of each of them. Otabek is the first to thank him for the meal, Viktor following, and Yuri mumbles a quiet “Thank you for the meal.” Yuuri's answering smile is dazzling, and he tells them all that he hopes the enjoy it.

 

As they eat, Viktor and Yuuri slowly coax Otabek out of his shell, get him talking about himself and his home and such, and Viktor discreetly sneaks Makkachin scraps of food. Or, at least he _thinks_ he's being discreet, but Yuuri notices almost immediately and scolds him. When Yuri looks over at his best friend, he's smiling.

 

 _Yeah,_ Yuri thinks to himself, covering up a smile of his own by shoveling food into his mouth, _this is my dumb family._

 

* * *

 

Later, Viktor drops them off at Yuri's apartment. Yuuri stays behind to continue his packing, because he doesn't want to have to worry about it later―contrarily, Viktor hasn't even started his packing, which is driving Yuuri absolutely insane, so he'll probably start packing some of Viktor's stuff, too.

 

“Thanks for dropping us off, geezer,” Yuri says as he climbs out of the car, Otabek following suit. Viktor pops the trunk so he can get his suitcase out, and once he has it, he joins Yuri on the sidewalk.

 

“Thank you, Viktor, for having us over,” he says politely.

 

Viktor just smiles and waves. “You two will have to come over again before we all fly to Japan, I think Makkachin is quite attached already,” he replies, laughing. “Anyway, if you two need anything, call us. We'll see you soon!”

 

Yuri turns to start walking inside, waving over his shoulder. Otabek says goodbye before following him, and Viktor's car can be heard pulling away.

 

“They're nice,” Otabek announces as Yuri digs for his keys.

 

Yuri snorts. “They're gross and annoying, but they have their moments,” he answers, slipping his key into the lock for the outer door of the building and pulling the door open, motioning for Otabek to step inside. “My room is on the third floor and we don't have an elevator, sorry,” he apologizes in advance, leading him toward the stairs.

 

Otabek just shrugs. “A few stairs never hurt anyone.”

 

“Let me take this, at least,” Yuri insists, reaching for the handle of his suitcase. “You're probably tired from traveling and shit, so don't try and argue with me.”

 

Otabek just smiles good-naturedly and holds his hands up in surrender, allowing him to take it. It's ridiculously heavy, but Yuri would rather die than complain about it after insisting on taking it. He can see Otabek hiding his laughter as he watches him struggle to lug it up the first flight of stairs, and then the second. By the third, he can't hide it anymore, and his laugh echoes through the stairwell. “Okay, that's enough, let's switch,” he says, holding out his carry-on instead.

 

Stubborn, Yuri shakes his head. “I said I was taking it, it's fine.”

 

“Yuri, come on, it'll be faster if I take it,” he points out, and Yuri _knows_ he's right but...

 

“I'm strong enough to carry it,” he argues, pulling it toward the third flight of stairs. “We're wasting time arguing about it, so come on.”

 

He feels a hand on his wrist, and turns to find a soft look on Otabek's face. “I already know you're strong. You don't have to prove anything to me, Yura.”

 

Yuri can't decide if he hates or loves the fact that Otabek is aware of his weird desire to constantly prove himself. Regardless, he isn't going to budge on this. “I _know_ ,” he grinds out, rolling his eyes. “I'm not trying to prove anything, anyway,” he mutters, turning away again. “I'm just being a good friend.”

 

Otabek lets out a quiet snort. “You'd be a good friend regardless.” And then Yuri feels a big, warm hand on the top of his head, feels it ruffle his hair. “But if you're so determined, alright. I'll respect that,” he adds, and then the hand is gone and he's continuing up the stairs and Yuri's chest feels weirdly light and fluttery.

 

When they finally make it to Yuri's door, he's panting. Otabek doesn't say anything though, and Yuri's thankful. Slipping his keys out once more, he slips it into the lock and turns the handle, careful not to let the door bang against the wall.

 

“Welcome home,” Mila calls from the kitchen, mouth stuffed with food. Her bangs are pinned back, and she's sitting in front of the fan in their kitchen in just a sports bra and short-shorts. Yuri is used to the sight, but Otabek coughs awkwardly and averts his eyes.

 

“You better not be eating my food,” he warns, kicking the door shut.

 

Mila just grins. “And if I am?” she questions, but then her eyes fall on Otabek. “Oh, hi, Otabek,” she greets, waving a hand. “Sorry it's so hot in here, our air conditioning isn't working,” she apologizes.

 

“Since when?” Yuri asks. “It was working when I left today.”

 

Mila shrugs. “It wasn't working when I got home from practice today. I called the landlord though, he's coming to look at it tomorrow.”

 

Yuri sighs. Beside him, Otabek shyly waves. “Hi,” he says awkwardly. “I don't mind the heat, but thank you for the concern.”

 

“We're going into my room, don't bother us,” Yuri tells her, glaring for extra measure. He knows Mila, and he knows that Otabek won't be able to relax around her.

 

Mila grins. “Okay, but we have neighbors so don't be loud, and make sure you use protection,” she practically sings, scooping more food into her mouth.

 

“Don't be loud and use―” Yuri says in confusion, but then it hits him and he goes completely red. “I fucking hate you, it's not like that at all!” he nearly shrieks, and Otabek winces beside him, red in the face at Mila's assumption as well. “Don't be fucking gross, you old hag!” he finishes, managing to lower the volume of his voice the slightest bit.

 

She just laughs, and Yuri quickly drags Otabek into his room and slams the door shut behind them.

 

“I'm sorry about her,” he growls, setting Otabek's suitcase against his bed. “That's just how she is.”

 

“It's, ah, fine,” Otabek stutters, setting his carry-on bag down.

 

Yuri motions to the bed and his desk chair. “You can sit wherever you want, I'm gonna go get the air mattress,” he tells him, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself. He could seriously strangle Mila sometimes...

 

He heads back out into the main part of the small apartment he shares with Mila, glaring at her immediately. “Where is the air mattress?” he asks tonelessly, not in the mood for her right now.

 

Her eyes glint with mischief. “What, you're not going to share your bed?” she asks, tone innocent while her expression is anything but.

 

“Literally shut the fuck up,” he replies darkly, crossing his arms. “He's my best friend, not everyone has to be fucking.”

 

“Sara started out as my friend,” she shrugs, getting up and opening the fridge. She pulls out a strawberry, pulling the stem off and popping it into her mouth. “And now we're fucking,” she finishes, smiling cheerily.

 

Yuri kind of wants to scream. “You can do whatever you want with your girlfriend,” he mutters. “But don't apply yourself to me. Are you gonna tell me where the air mattress is or not?”

 

She sighs, perching herself on one of the bar stools at their kitchen island. “You're no fun, Yurotchka,” she laments. “It's in the box in the vacuum closet, the air pump should be with it.”

 

He heads there to get it without bothering to thank her, annoyed. He loves her like an older sister, but sometimes she gets on his nerves too much and he just needs to get away before he murders her or something. He's too young to go to jail, after all, he's only seventeen.

 

He finds it where she said it would be, grabbing it along with the air pump and heading back toward his room. “Hey, Yuri, wait,” she calls, causing him to halt as he's reaching for his doorknob. He glances over at her, eyes narrowed, and waits for her to speak. “I'm sorry if I made you or him uncomfortable, really. I shouldn't make assumptions like that,” she apologizes, and unwillingly, Yuri feels his face soften because he can tell she's being sincere. The thing about Mila is that she'll take the piss out of you with absolutely no hesitation, but she usually realizes when she's gone too far and makes sure to apologize for it.

 

“...yeah, whatever. Just don't say shit like that anymore, you gross old hag,” he mumbles before turning the doorknob and slipping into his room and dropping the mattress on the floor. He finds Otabek sitting on the edge of his bed, Niva sprawled on his lap like she's known him forever.

 

“She's more beautiful in person,” Otabek says softly, smiling as he gently strokes her long fur. “Very soft, too.”

 

Yuri grins, proud of his cat. “I try to brush her a few times a week.” Taking a seat beside him, Yuri holds his hand out toward his cat for her to rub her head against. “She likes you, she's normally very picky with who holds her,” he informs him.

 

“Really? As soon as I sat down, she got up from her bed and climbed onto my lap,” Otabek tells him, brow furrowed. “I guess I should feel special?”

 

Yuri nods, humming affirmatively. “Very special. She fucking hates Viktor, so there's that.”

 

Otabek chuckles, gently scratching behind one of her ears, causing her to start purring very loudly. “I'm honored, then. He seems like the kind of person that animals flock to,” he muses.

 

Yuri snorts. “He usually is, so that's why it's so funny that Niva hates him,” he answers. “He keeps trying to befriend her, but he always ends up with scratches everywhere. I don't think she'll ever like him, to be completely honest, and I find that hilarious.”

 

Otabek shakes his head in amusement. “Poor Viktor.”

 

The blond shrugs. “He'll live.” Standing, he stretches his arms above his head. “I don't know about you, but I'm beat. Wanna start getting ready for bed?”

 

Otabek nods, gently lifting Niva and setting her on the bed, much to her displeasure. “Where's the bathroom?” he asks, kneeling down to open his suitcase and get some pajamas. Once he has those, he grabs his bag of toiletries from his carry-on bag.

 

“I guess I forgot to show you, since Mila pissed me off,” Yuri sighs. “Anyway, it's right off the kitchen, you can't miss it.”

 

“Alright, I'll be right back then.” Otabek leaves the room, and Yuri heads over to his dresser to get some pajamas. He settles on a worn pair of sweats and a shirt that's probably at least two sizes too big, stripping and pulling them on. He then gets to work inflating the air mattress, wincing at how loud the air pump is when he attaches it and turns it on.

 

Otabek returns just as he's shutting the pump off, dressed in sleep shorts and a tank top. “I could've done that,” he says, setting his things down by his suitcase.

 

Yuri snorts. “You're a guest, shut up. I forgot to grab the comfy memory foam thing to put on top of the mattress and I need to brush my teeth, so I'll be right back. You can turn the tv on if you want,” Yuri tells him, heading for the door. “Oh, and do you want a glass of water or anything?”

 

“That would be nice,” Otabek replies, smiling.

 

Yuri heads out then, running to brush his teeth first before grabbing the memory foam mattress cover thing (he always forgets what they're called) and taking that to the bedroom, spreading it over the mattress. “There, that should be more comfortable, and now Niva won't accidentally pop the mattress with her claws if she steps on it,” he says, satisfied. “I'll run and grab the water now.” Without waiting for Otabek to answer, he heads back to the kitchen. Mila must've gone to her room, taking the extra fan with her, because both are missing. Shrugging, he grabs two big glasses and fills them with water and heads back to his room, handing one to Otabek.

 

“Thank you,” the older boy says warmly, lifting it to his mouth and taking a sip.

 

“No problem, you can set it on the nightstand when you're done with it,” Yuri answers, flipping the overhead light off and doing just that before plopping down on his bed. The small lamp on his nightstand is the only source of light in his room now, and the dimmer lighting paired with being sprawled on his bed the way he is makes him realize just how tired he really is. Embarrassingly, he hadn't gotten a lot of sleep the night before because he'd been so excited about Otabek coming, so even though it's not actually that late, he's still exhausted.

 

He watches Otabek set his glass on the nightstand as well after drinking a little more, and then he's lowering himself onto the air mattress. Niva immediately abandons Yuri in favor of curling up next to Otabek, much to his surprise.

 

“I can't believe she's choosing you over me right now,” he says sulkily, crossing his arms.

 

Otabek laughs, pulling the cat onto his chest and patting down the length of her back. “What can I say? I love animals, and I guess they love me too.”

 

“Smug bastard,” Yuri mutters, rolling onto his side so he can look down at his friend. “Oh, by the way, Mila apologized about earlier. She can be a little much, but she doesn't ever really mean any harm,” he explains, sighing. “I figured she'd want me to tell you she apologized, and even though she's annoying, I don't want you to think badly of her.”

 

Otabek hums. “She was still in the kitchen when I went to the bathroom, so she actually apologized to me then. It's not that big of a deal, it just...caught me off guard, I guess. She seems nice, anyway. She sounded really afraid that she'd screwed up.”

 

“She's like my shitty older sister, basically. She's an asshole, but she's a caring asshole,” Yuri laughs. “She just made assumptions based on her own experiences, because she's a dumb old hag.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You know Sara Crispino, right?” When Otabek nods, he continues. “Well, they've been friends for a couple years now, since they're always in competitions together and such. Anyway, they started dating a few months ago, right around the Grand Prix Final, so I guess Mila assumed that our relationship was...like that,” he finishes, a wave of embarrassment rolling through him as he says it.

 

“...oh.” Yuri can tell that Otabek feels awkward about the situation because he does, too. Why? He's not really sure. It should be funny, but it's just embarrassing. “Well, people make mistakes, I guess,” he adds, not looking at Yuri. His eyes stay glued to Niva.

 

“I guess.” For the first time, an awkward silence falls over them, and Yuri doesn't quite know how to deal with it. It's kind of scary, since it's never happened... “Well, um, I'm gonna go to sleep. How about you?”

 

“Yeah, I could go for some sleep,” Otabek replies, still sounding painfully awkward.

 

“Okay...is it cool if I turn the lamp off?”

 

“Yeah, it's fine.”

 

Biting his lip, Yuri props himself up on one elbow and reaches out to turn the lamp off, blanketing the room in darkness. He fluffs his pillows before laying down and closing his eyes, attempting to fall asleep, but even though he's exhausted, his body is restless. His mind is racing, and it's keeping him awake. Otabek seems to be in the same boat―he can hear him shifting around every few minutes, like he can't get comfortable or something. Yuri wants to say something, but fear of somehow making things more awkward suffocates him.

 

And so they lay in silence for what feels like an eternity, and Yuri's not sure who manages to fall asleep first.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> viktuuri wedding in this chapter!! i don't go super into detail tho, since they're not the main focus of this fic lmao
> 
> i hope yall enjoy!!

“Yura, wake up,” comes a soft voice, and a warm hand gently shakes his shoulder. “Come on, the plane is about to land.”

 

Blearily, Yuri slowly opens his eyes, letting them focus. Otabek's face comes into view, and he looks amused. “We're here?” Yuri questions, voice slightly slurred with residual sleep.

 

Otabek hums. “Landing in about five minutes. Did you sleep well?”

 

Sitting up to stretch and chase away the sleepiness, Yuri nods. “You're comfy,” he answers, shrugging.

 

The older boy snorts. “I'm glad you think so. I hope you know you drooled on me.”

 

Yuri's eyes widen. “I did _not_.”

 

Otabek points to a damp spot on his dark shirt, right where Yuri's head had been cushioned on his shoulder. “Then what is this?” he asks, thoroughly amused.

 

“I...shut up,” Yuri grumbles, embarrassed. He sinks down in his seat, pulling his hood tighter around his face, and wonders why life is out to get him like this.

 

The weird awkwardness they'd felt a few nights prior had thankfully disappeared by the time they woke up the next morning, and Yuri had spent the few days they had in St. Petersburg showing Otabek all of his favorite places. They'd gone to eat at Viktor and Yuuri's a couple times before the two of them had left to fly to Hasetsu early, since they had to make sure everything was in place for the wedding. Yuri and Otabek had flown with Yakov, Mila and Georgi, and it's up to Yuri to get everyone to their hotel since he's the only one who really knows where anything is in Hasetsu.

 

They land a few moments later, making their way through security and such before collecting their bags. Unexpectedly, Yuuko is waiting for them at the gate, a wide, kind smile on her face when she sees Yuri.

 

“Welcome back, Yurio,” she greets, holding her arms out for a hug.

 

Reluctantly, he hugs her back, not having the heart to be mean to the woman who'd been nothing but nice to him since meeting him. “Thanks, Yuuko. I didn't know you were meeting us here,” he says in reply, letting go after a few seconds.

 

She laughs. “I figured I'd surprise you and pick you all up, so that you wouldn't have to pay for a cab.” She looks around at everyone else who's gathered, offering a warm smile. “Hi everyone, I'm Yuuko, Yuuri's childhood friend.”

 

Mila is the first to answer. “I've heard lots about you from little _Yurio_ here,” she tells the older woman as she drapes an arm over Yuri's shoulders, grinning. “I'm Mila, Viktor, Yuri and Yuuri's rinkmate.”

 

Georgi and Yakov introduce themselves as well, but Otabek remains quiet. Yuri knows that he gets kind of overwhelmed by airports, so that on top of meeting new people isn't exactly a good mix.

 

Yuuko seems to sense his discomfort, because her smile turns gentle. “And you're Otabek, hmm? Come on, you all probably want to get settled, so I'll get you to your hotels. Yurio, you're staying at Yu-topia, right?”

 

Yuri nods. “Otabek is staying with me.”

 

They all head out to Yuuko's van, stuffing their luggage inside. Yuri climbs into the front seat when he sees Mila pull Otabek into the very back, figuring he'll be okay with her since he's had a few days to get comfortable around her. Georgi and Yakov climb into the middle row of seats, and Yuuko reminds everyone to put their seatbelts on before pulling away and heading toward the hotel.

 

“How was the flight?” Yuuko asks, glancing at Yuri out of the corner of her eye.

 

“Boring,” he replies, propping his chin up on his hand and looking out the window. “It looks the same here,” he observes, and _no_ , he doesn't sound fond or anything.

 

Yuuko laughs. “Yeah, Hasetsu never changes. It's a reliable little town, that's for sure.”

 

“How are the gross lovebirds?” he asks, watching the scenery pass by.

 

“Busy,” she answers. “Yuuri is a little stressed, but it's been better since his friend Phichit got here. He's been helping a lot.”

 

“Viktor's probably been slacking off,” Yuri mutters.

 

Another laugh leaves her. “Maybe a little. Yuuri spoils him too much.”

 

“Guess I'll have to kick his ass or something,” Yuri shrugs.

 

“Vitya can be such a pain sometimes,” Yakov grumbles from the back. “He should be helping as much as he can, it's his own damn wedding.”

 

“He's been keeping my girls busy, which is definitely nice, but I'd rather he help Yuuri with the final preparations,” Yuuko admits with an amused sigh. “He was helping when I left, though, so that's good. The girls latched on to Phichit today...” She looks over at Yuri, grinning. “Although I'm sure they'll leave him alone once they see you, Yurio. They talk about you all the time, and they're always asking when you're going to visit.” She turns on her blinker, turning, and then pulls over. “Okay, here's the hotel!” she announces, putting the car in park. “Do any of you need help getting your things in?”

 

“We should be fine,” Georgi assures her, a charming smile on his face. “Thank you very much for the drive, Miss Yuuko.”

 

Yuuko waves a hand dismissively. “It's nothing! Now, if any of you need anything, Yurio has my number so text him and let him know. My husband or I would be happy to help,” she tells them, warmth in her voice.

 

“We'll keep that in mind,” Mila replies graciously, climbing over Otabek to get out of the car. “See you later, big guy,” she says in farewell, patting his shoulder.

 

Otabek smiles at her, nodding. “Goodbye for now, Mila.”

 

“Hey, hag,” Yuri calls before she can follow Yakov and Georgi in. “If you want me to go to the airport with you to meet Sara, just let me know,” he tells her, glancing away.

 

He hears her laugh. “Thanks for the offer, Yurotchka, but I should be fine.”

 

He shrugs, waving. In the back, he can hear Otabek climbing into the middle seat, and once Yuuko checks to see that he's settled and has his seatbelt on, she pulls away from the curb and heads for the onsen.

 

“So you're Yurio's best friend, huh Otabek?” Yuuko questions after a few moments, glancing at him in the rearview mirror.

 

“I suppose I am,” he answers, and Yuri rolls his eyes.

 

“You 'suppose' you are, huh?” he teases. “Yes, Yuuko, he's my best friend.”

 

Yuuko giggles. “You two seem very close. It's nice,” she tells them. “Well, Otabek, you're a fantastic skater,” she continues, and Otabek's face reddens at the compliment. “Your performance at the Four Continents was incredible.”

 

“It was, wasn't it?” Yuri echoes, chest puffed out with pride for his best friend. Otabek had managed to nab the silver medal, Yuuri having narrowly beaten him to take gold.

 

“Thank you,” Otabek replies, embarrassed by the attention. “I, ah, worked very hard.”

 

“I could tell,” Yuuko answers, grinning. “Yurio, you and Yuuri had better watch out, huh?” she teases, attention turned to Yuri now.

 

Yuri hums, grinning. “I guess it could happen, yeah. I doubt he'll beat me, though.”

 

“Cocky,” Otabek chimes in from the back, sounding amused. “But you'll see, I guess. I've been practicing lots of new things since you last competed against me.”

 

There it is, the thrill of competing that no one gives him other than Otabek. “I haven't exactly been slacking off, either,” he points out, smirking.

 

“Good, that'll make things more interesting.”

 

They reach Yu-topia then, and Yuri's mouth waters at the thought of getting to eat Yuuri's mom's katsudon. Sure, Yuuri makes it often enough, and it's definitely not bad or anything, but it's not as delicious as his mother's.

 

They climb out of the van, collecting their luggage from the trunk. Otabek stays close to Yuri as they head inside, Yuuko following behind, and Yuri gives the older boy a reassuring nudge. “Just tell me if you get overwhelmed, I'll find us somewhere quiet,” he promises, voice low so that Yuuko doesn't hear.

 

Otabek sucks in a breath, then nods. “Thanks,” he replies, gratitude in his eyes.

 

Once inside, Makkachin immediately notices them and pounces on Otabek, drawing a laugh from him. “Missed me, huh? It's only been a couple days, boy,” he coos, ruffling his ears. Makkachin licks him all over, and Yuri might as well be invisible to the dog at this point.

 

“Yuri!” three identical voices yell, and next thing he knows, the triplets are tackling him. He's momentarily startled by how much they've grown, but...he supposes it _has_ been two years since he'd last seen them.

 

“Hey, brats,” he greets, unable to help the smile on his face. “I heard you missed me.”

 

“Mama!” they whine in unison, looking betrayed.

 

Yuuko just laughs, shrugging. “Sorry, girls.”

 

Phichit is the next to appear, looking a little winded, but he offers a friendly wave. “Hey Yuri, hey Otabek! It's been a while,” he says in greeting. Yuri can't find it within himself to dislike Phichit―he's always been nice, after all.

 

“Yo,” Yuri replies, waving a hand in return.

 

“Hello, Phichit,” Otabek greets, gently pushing Makkachin down.

 

“I can't believe Otabek Altin is here!” Axel exclaims, and Yuri knows this look she has on her face and it means nothing but trouble.

 

“What a line up we're going to have here,” Lutz continues with a mischievous grin.

 

“Think of the followers we'll gain when we post pictures!” Loop cheers, pumping a fist in the air.

 

“You three!” Yuuko exclaims, raking her hands through her hair. “No one is posting _any_ pictures without permission! Come on, we have to get home and make dinner, everyone here is very busy!”

 

There's a chorus of disgruntled whines, but the girls grudgingly move away from Yuri and toward the door. “Yuri, promise you'll let us take pictures tomorrow!” Lutz begs, giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

 

Yuri sighs. “We'll see. Get going, listen to your mother, yeah?”

 

“That's not a no, so we'll take it,” Axel shrugs, and then they follow their mother out to the van.

 

“They're...rambunctious,” Otabek observes.

 

“They don't mean any harm,” Yuri assures him, shrugging. “They're just...overexcited.”

 

“They sure are something,” Phichit chimes in with a smile. “Anyway, Yuuri and Viktor are out overseeing the decorations at the location right now, but they should be back soon. They told me to tell you that you're in the same room you were in last time, Yuri.”

 

“Thanks,” he answers, nodding his head. “C'mon, follow me,” he says to Otabek, making his way toward “his” room. Makkachin stays behind when he sees Phichit grab his leash, excited by the prospect of going on a walk.

 

“Not sure where Yuuri's family is,” Yuri muses, the sound of the wheels of his and Otabek's suitcases startlingly loud. “You'll meet them soon enough, though. His mom is really sweet, and his dad is kinda...goofy, I guess. And you already met his sister in Barcelona, so...”

 

“Are you sure they don't mind me staying here?” Otabek asks, sounding unsure.

 

Yuri snorts. “It's not like you're taking an extra room, because we're sharing mine. And Yuuri's mom loves having extra people to fuss over, anyway.”

 

“As long as you're sure...” Otabek mumbles, not sounding convinced.

 

They reach their room, finding two neatly folded futons on the floor, and Yuri chucks his bags aside and quickly rolls one of them out so he can collapse on top of it. Travelling always makes him weirdly tired, and there's a very real chance of him accidentally falling asleep if he's not careful. Maybe a nap wouldn't be so bad, though...

 

Otabek must feel the same, because he also rolls his futon out and flops down, burying his face in it. “I'm exhausted,” he sighs.

 

Reluctantly, Yuri stands so he can slide their door shut and flip the light off, drawing the curtains as well before laying back down. “I say we take a nap,” he suggests, burrowing himself under the covers. “Someone will wake us up when it's time to eat, so...let's sleep. Our flight was early as fuck, anyway.”

 

“I'm not gonna argue there,” Otabek sighs, shifting and making himself more comfortable.

 

Within moments, they're out.

 

* * *

 

In the days leading up to the wedding, Yuri shows Otabek around Hasetsu. Mila and Sara tag along sometimes, much to his annoyance, but he supposes it can't be helped―after all, Otabek doesn't really seem to mind, so he doesn't really have a good reason to keep them away.

 

But today, it's just the two of them and Makkachin. Otabek had suggested they take him for a walk, since everyone is busy with last minute preparations for the wedding, so Yuri just shrugs and agrees. It seems to make Makkachin happy―he trots happily in front of them, Otabek hanging on to his leash, and they let him take them wherever he wants to go.

 

They end up at the beach, somehow managing to find a semi-deserted spot so they can let Makkachin off his leash so he can play in the water. He bounds right in, letting the waves hit him. Otabek finds a stick to throw for him, whipping it into the water and getting him to swim out to retrieve it. When Yuri looks over, Otabek is smiling so widely that surely his cheeks must hurt―Yuri's still not used to such blatant displays of joy on his best friend's face, even after a year and a half of being friends. He thinks it's something he'd like to get used to, though, because he likes seeing Otabek relax like this. He's always so afraid about what others will think of him, so seeing him so unguarded feels...nice, he supposes. And while part of him hopes that Otabek can someday be this free with his emotions all the time, a selfish part of him likes being one of the only people Otabek trusts with his true self. That probably makes him an awful person, but whatever.

 

He thinks he doesn't mind being an awful person as long as he keeps getting to see his best friend smile.

 

* * *

 

The wedding is, as expected, incredibly sappy and emotional. Yuri stands beside Chris, who is Viktor's best man, because for some reason, Viktor had asked him to be in the ceremony.

 

He'll never admit how happy it makes him.

 

Phichit stands as Yuuri's best man, Yuuko next to him, and it seems fitting. Phichit is probably his best friend, and Yuuko's been in his life ever since they were young.

 

The triplets are the flower girls, and because Viktor and Yuuri are embarrassing dog parents, Makkachin is the ringbearer. Yuri thinks it might've been funny if Makkachin had run off with the rings, but he's too well behaved for that―he trots down the aisle when he's called, tongue hanging out of his mouth, and neither Viktor or Yuuri seem to be able to resist smooching his head before taking the rings from his collar.

 

To absolutely no one's surprise, they both sob their way through their vows, sliding their rings on with shaky hands and telling each other just how much they love each other through throats clogged with tears. Yuri definitely isn't crying as he watches or anything, that would be crazy―they're on the beach, so obviously some sand blew into his eye, even though it's not windy. Or maybe he has some kind of allergy that's just presenting itself now. He can't think of any other explanations for the excess moisture in his eyes...

 

When it's over and they've sealed it all with a kiss, everything seems to move quickly. Viktor and Yuuri disappear to who knows where, probably to be gross together or something (as usual, but probably even _more_ gross since, y'know, they just got married). Phichit runs around like a madman trying to make sure that everything is going smoothly for the reception at Yu-topia, enlisting the help and extra sets of hands from Leo and Guang-hong, the triplets harass Chris and good-naturedly, he humors them while Yuuko watches on in embarrassment.

 

Yuri is thankful when Otabek shows up with Mila and Sara to steal him away.

 

“Someone got a little emotional up there, huh?” Mila teases as they walk down to a more deserted part of the beach, away from the still-dispersing crowd and also from the random people farther down.

 

“Shut up, there was sand in my eye,” he mutters, rubbing at his eyes.

 

“Aw, don't tease him too much, Mila,” Sara chastises her girlfriend, but she looks _and_ sounds amused so it doesn't have too much impact, really. “They're practically his dads, of course he was going to get emotional.”

 

Yuri's mouth drops open in disbelief, face rapidly reddening. “Those fuckers are _not_ my dads! I don't even like them! They're fucking annoying, a-and they always tease me and fuss over me, and―”

 

He cuts himself off when Otabek starts to laugh beside him, a dubious look on his face. “Yura, you aren't fooling anyone,” he sighs, ruffling his hair. “You love them like they're your family, and that's okay. It's nothing to be ashamed about, you know.”

 

Sara and Mila laugh when his face gets redder, and Yuri _totally_ doesn't stomp his foot like a three year old having a tantrum. “I fucking hate all of you,” he growls before stalking away, flipping his hair behind him (he could definitely stand to get it cut, but he kind of likes it long―not that he's trying to be like Viktor or anything, because that would be gross). He can feel sand slipping into his shoes as he speed-walks away, which is _not_ doing anything for his mood.

 

Otabek catches up a moment later, but he doesn't say anything. Yuri appreciates this―he's embarrassed, and he just needs silence right now to deal with it. At the same time, though, it's nice to not be alone. Somewhere behind them, he can hear Sara and Mila speaking to each other in hushed tones―when he glances back, he finds them holding hands, walking as close to each other as they possibly can without knocking each other over. Mila reaches out to tuck a stray piece of Sara's long, dark hair behind her ear, fingers ghosting over her face in the process, and Yuri can see Sara's face redden before she catches Mila's hand, bringing it to her lips to kiss it. Yuri hastily looks away from the affectionate display, wondering why everyone has to be shacking up like this. Wonders if someday, he'll be disgusting like that with someone. He can't really imagine it―even after almost two years, friendship is still new enough to him, so he doesn't even want to start to think about trying to be in a relationship with someone. He has more important things to focus on, anyway, like beating the Piggy's free skate score so that he can rest easy knowing he's beaten both Viktor and Yuuri in every way possible, and also being friends with Otabek. He has priorities.

 

After he's cooled down and they've reached then end of the beach, Mila speaks. “Hey, think we can sneak into the rink and skate until it's time for the reception?” she asks, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

 

Yuri rolls his eyes. “Why sneak when I can just text Yuuko and ask her?” he replies, already pulling his phone from the pocket of his fancy dress-pants.

 

“So boring,” Mila laments.

 

Shaking his head, Yuri sends a quick text to Yuuko. She answers immediately, and Yuri grins. “She said it's unlocked, and we can skate as long as we don't mess anything up,” he announces, tucking his phone back into his pocket.

 

They immediately head to Ice Castle, led by Yuri, and once inside, they find pairs of skates that will fit each of them and head into the rink, kicking off their fancy shoes and hastily putting the skates on instead.

 

Yuri is the first on the ice, and immediately the feeling of being at home fills him. The ice always brings a kind of calm with it now, and it puts him at ease.

 

The other three skate onto the ice after a moment, Otabek gliding over to his side while Mila and Sara goof around skating in circles around each other.

 

“This really is a nice little rink,” Otabek comments, smiling.

 

Yuri nods, humming. “It's small, but it's homey I guess. Skating here again this week has been weirdly nostalgic. It feels like forever since I've been here, but I guess it _has_ been over two years...”

 

“Do you like being here?”

 

He nods again. “It's...definitely different from home, but not in a bad way. The people here are nice, and Yuuri's mom's cooking is basically as good as my grandpa's, so...I guess it's kinda like home away from home, even though it's only my second time here.” He rakes a hand through his hair, contemplative. “Maybe I should go with Yuuri and Viktor whenever they come here to visit.”

 

Otabek chuckles. “You should, if you want to. It's very...calm, here. The atmosphere is great―it seems like a good place to go to just get away from everything,” he says, and his smile reaches his eyes. Yuri likes that smile best, he thinks, because it softens his friend's whole face. Yuri doesn't think he'll ever get over the rush he feels at seeing his friend so relaxed and unguarded. It feels almost like a treat.

 

Distantly, Yuri wonders if anyone feels that way about his smile, as well. He knows he usually looks quite sullen, he has an image to maintain after all. Even though he's older now, it's still hard to get people to take him seriously―the “Russian fairy” is a hard image to shake. He's not about to go and make it worse for himself.

 

At the other end of the rink, he spots Mila lifting Sara high, and a sigh leaves him. “You idiots are going to hurt yourselves!” he calls, hands cupped around his mouth. The warmth from his breath feels nice against them―it's kind of cold in here, and none of them had thought to stop and grab any gloves or anything. He thinks the girls must be freezing in their dresses with their bare legs. Well, at least they both have sleeves...

 

Mila sticks her tongue out at him and continues to glide across the ice, still holding her giggling girlfriend. “So immature,” he mutters, shaking his head.

 

“You sound like an old man,” Otabek tells him, and there's that smile again...

 

Yuri nudges him, a reluctant smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Shut up, you're the only old man here,” he shoots back, reaching up to mess up his best friend's hair. “Is that a grey hair I see? Must suck being old.”

 

Otabek rolls his eyes, nudging him back. “I'm only three years older than you, you know. Well, more like two and a half, really. That hardly makes me old.”

 

“Nah, you're practically a dinosaur,” Yuri shrugs, a shit-eating grin on his face.

 

The girls happen to skate by at that moment, and Yuri feels a smack on the back of his head. “If he's a dinosaur, then what does that make me?” Sara asks, crossing her arms.

 

Right, she's twenty-four. Yuri snorts. “Whatever is older than a dinosaur, I guess.”

 

Yuri swears he can see fire in her eyes. “You little―”

 

Mila cuts in, kissing her girlfriend's cheek. “Ignore him, _printcessa_ , he's a little baby who thinks he's being cool,” she tells her, grinning over her shoulder at Yuri. “Maybe one day he'll finally grow up, but who knows? Let's not hold our breath.”

 

“Mila, _you_ ―”

 

“Okay, come on,” Otabek interrupts, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him away. “I don't know how you two live together without murdering each other,” he mumbles, shaking his head.

 

“She's so fucking annoying,” Yuri mutters, kicking against the ice with the pick on his skate. “I'm plenty grown up, she can fuck off.”

 

Otabek sighs. “Yura, you do act a little childishly sometimes. But you're only seventeen, so that's not really a bad thing. You're allowed to be childish,” he shrugs.

 

Yuri glares. “I don't need you looking down on me because I'm younger than you,” he snaps. “Fuck that bullshit about being allowed to be childish or whatever. I'm just as mature as you or anyone else who's older than me. If anything, _Mila_ is the childish one!”

 

The older boy sighs again. “You don't have to try to grow up so fast, Yura. Enjoy being a kid while you can, yeah?”

 

“You really are an old man,” Yuri spits. “Listen to you, talking like you're so much older and wiser than I am just because you've been around a few more years than I have. Everyone else has always talked down to me because of things I can't control, but I didn't expect you to, too.”

 

“Yura, come on,” Otabek says, shaking his head. “I'm not trying to talk down to you, I'm just being honest with you.”

 

“Whatever,” he mutters, skating toward the exit. “I'm going to see if anyone needs help with anything, you guys can do whatever the fuck you want as long as none of you fucking follow me.” And then he leaves without looking back, switching the skates for his shoes, and he puts the skates back in the spot he got them before heading out the door. No one follows him.

 

He ends up at Yu-topia, where last minute decorations are being put up. The reception is set to start in less than an hour, and he figures he should probably actually try to help out like he'd said he was going to, but he's in a sour mood and he doesn't really feel like doing anything.

 

He knows he's overreacting. He knows it, but he can't help it. Mila and Otabek had hit a nerve, and yeah, he's pissed off―he expects shit like this from Mila, but coming from Otabek, who'd always treated him as an equal...it had been an unexpected blow. Logically, he knows that Otabek hadn't really even said anything that bad, but it's still a definite blow to his pride. Because all he wants is to be taken seriously by people, not written off as some cute kid. He's worked hard just to try and achieve that and he's grown so much, but still, people don't see him the way he wants to be seen.

 

Like the person with the eyes of a soldier that Otabek said he'd seen all those years ago, before Yuri even knew him, not the “fairy” that people like to describe him as.

 

He continues to sulk well into the night, even as the party happens around him. He nurses a cup of sparkling juice that Yuuko brings him at some point, watching people get drunk and make fools of themselves all around him. There's also couples _everywhere_ ―there's obviously Yuuri and Viktor, looking absolutely _sickening_ with their heads pressed together as they keep sneaking kisses, and he sees Leo and Guang-hong huddled together as well, cheeks red (they might as well be in their own little world, he thinks, because they don't seem very aware of anything but each other). He also spots Sara's brother and the Czech skater holding hands and dancing; he hadn't even known they were a _thing_. He doesn't see them, but he knows JJ and his fiancee are here somewhere, probably being gross too. At least JJ isn't bothering him, though, so he doesn't care what he does as long as he's keeping his distance. He doesn't know where Sara, Mila and Otabek are, and he tells himself that he doesn't care. He does feel a little bad for leaving Otabek with them for hours, though, but he figures he's had enough time to get used to Mila that he'll be alright. Probably.

 

Dammit, why is he worrying when he's supposed to be mad?

 

A warm body practically crashes into him, and he turns his head to find a tipsy Viktor sinking down to sit beside him, cheeks flushed from the liquor he's been consuming. “Yurio,” he drawls, slinging an arm around the teen's shoulder, “you don't look like you're having any fun! You've been sulking since the party started, what's wrong?”

 

“Shouldn't you be with your husband right now or something?” Yuri grumbles, reminding himself to be nice. He's not going to be mean to the guy on his wedding day, he's not that awful.

 

Viktor waves a hand dismissively. “He's dancing with Phichit, so I thought I'd come and find my favorite angry little kitten,” he replies, cooing out the last words. “Want some of this?” he asks, thrusting his drink in Yuri's face.

 

Yuri pushes his hand away. “I'm underage, dumbass.” He shrugs Viktor's arm off his shoulder, crossing his arms. “Not to be rude, but can you like...fuck off? I'm not in the mood.”

 

Viktor sighs, taking a sip of his drink before setting it aside. “Mila told me you had a little fight with Otabek,” he says, raking a hand through his hair.

 

“Fucking blabbermouth,” he growls, annoyance rising sharp within him. “It's her fucking fault.”

 

“I don't know the details,” Viktor starts, looking up at the ceiling like he's looking through it at something far-off, “but I think you should talk to him, Yuri. He's your best friend, and yes, friends fight sometimes, but you should always try and make up as soon as possible. Not talking to him isn't going to do you any good, it's just going to make you more miserable.”

 

“What do you know,” Yuri snaps, refusing to look at him.

 

“I know that he's important to you,” Viktor hums. “And I know that you're more upset that you're not hanging out with him right now than you are about whatever happened, but you're too stubborn to admit it and find him so things can be resolved.” When Yuri tenses, back straightening, he grins knowingly. Annoying old bastard. “I'm not wrong, am I?”

 

“...fuck you,” Yuri says, but it lacks its usual bite. “Stupid old man.”

 

Viktor laughs, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Little brat,” he retorts, but it's said fondly.

 

It should bother him more to be called that, but coming from Viktor, it's normal. Being almost thirteen years older, Yuri thinks Viktor probably has the right to call him things like that, especially since he's known him so long. Viktor's the sentimental type, Yuri's already resigned himself to the fact that he'll probably always see the little boy he met all those years ago when he looks at him. “Whatever,” he mutters, standing and drinking the last of his juice. “Go and be gross with your husband somewhere, I'm going to the bathroom.” He feels like a deflated balloon, like all of his anger has rushed out of him, and he wonders how _Viktor_ of all people was able to make him feel better. He decides not to dwell on it too much―what matters is that he isn't so angry now, and that his head is a little clearer as a result.

 

Yeah, he'd definitely overreacted. _Shit_ , he thinks as he heads toward the bathroom, rubbing the back of his neck. _I should find him and apologize_. He shouldn't take his own problems and insecurities out on other people, especially not people who mean well.

 

He really is childish, he realizes.

 

As he's leaving the bathroom to go and find Otabek, he nearly slams right into him. “Sorry!” they exclaim at the same time, Yuri jumping back so fast that he nearly falls. Otabek's hand goes out to steady him, but he lets go as soon as he's sure Yuri isn't going to fall.

 

Yuri steps aside so Otabek can go inside, and the atmosphere is incredibly awkward and Otabek shuts the door. Yuri leans against the opposite wall to wait for him to come back out, hands tucked into his pockets, and tries to think of what exactly he's going to say. He's not really the best at apologizing...

 

As soon as Otabek emerges, though, the words leave him in a rush. “I'm sorry about earlier,” he breathes, biting his lip. “I, uh, realized...with a little help...that I was being dumb and childish, like you said. My sensitivity to that shit is my own problem, and, well...I know I can be childish. I try so hard to _not_ seem like some dumbass kid that it ends up having the opposite effect. I _know_ it, but I do it anyway, and I guess that's why people don't take me seriously, huh?” A humorless laugh leaves him then, and he shakes his hair into his face, feeling incredibly vulnerable. He's not sure he's ever been this open with anyone before, and it's terrifying. “Anyway, I...sorry,” he finishes awkwardly, voice cracking, and before he knows it, his face is pressing down into Otabek's shoulder as the older boy pulls him in for a tight hug.

 

“I've always taken you seriously, Yura,” he promises, and...Yuri actually believes him. “Childish or not, you deserve respect, and I have so much respect for you. I always have, ever since I saw those determined eyes of yours when we were younger. And just because you can be childish at times, it doesn't mean that you aren't incredibly mature at the same time―I can't think of anyone else who works as hard as you do, honestly. You're already so accomplished for your age, and it's incredible, Yuri. That's why it's not bad to let yourself act your age, okay? It's not bad to be a kid.”

 

Lost for words, Yuri says the only thing he can. “...thank you, Beka.” The nickname leaves his lips without a thought, and he feels Otabek go slightly stiff with surprise before relaxing, his arms then tightening even further.

 

“Anytime, Yura,” he says softly, reaching up to ruffle his hair. Yuri lifts his head and looks down to meet Otabek's eyes, and for some reason, it knocks the breath right out of him when he sees the warmth and affection in their deep brown depths. The air around them suddenly feels charged with something that Yuri can't put a name to, something he's never felt before; he swallows hard, wetting his suddenly dry lips, and opens his mouth to speak, but―

 

“I see you two made up,” Mila observes as she steps into the hall, eyebrow raised. “Mind moving out of the doorway, though? I have to pee.”

 

They immediately let go of each other, moving aside to let her into the bathroom, and Yuri feels embarrassed and confused for some reason. He doesn't understand why, all he did was hug his best friend, but...for some reason, it felt heavy.

 

“We should get back to the party,” he suggests, shaking his head to clear the uneasy feeling.

 

Otabek nods, and they head back outside to the tent where everyone is dancing. There appears to be another dance off like the one at the Grand Prix Final banquet three years prior, but Yuuri doesn't appear to be participating this time. He seems to be drinking in moderation this time, thankfully. This time, it appears to be Viktor versus Chris―why is it always Chris?

 

“What are they doing?” he groans as he stops beside Yuuri, who's watching the whole thing happen with an amused smile.

 

“What they do best,” Yuuri replies, tone fond. “Being fools.”

 

“Gross, you have that disgusting lovestruck look on your face,” Yuri grumbles.

 

“I'm going to grab a drink, do you want anything?” Otabek cuts in.

 

“Just some sparkling juice or water, please,” he replies, and Otabek nods before leaving.

 

Yuuri snorts. “That's because I _am_ lovestruck, Yurio,” he answers, taking a sip of his champagne. “Lovestruck and married,” he adds, and he sounds dreamy as he says it, eyes following Viktor's movements.

 

Yuri makes barfing noises. “I'd like to keep my food down, so if you could refrain from being gross, that would be great.”

 

Yuuri sighs, but it's a fond sigh. “You'll understand what it's like someday,” he tells him, nudging him gently and giving him a look that suggests he knows something that Yuri doesn't. “Maybe sooner than you think. You won't think it's so gross then, I promise.”

 

“No thanks,” he mutters. “I'd rather not sound and act like a total dumbass, thanks.”

 

The older man pinches his cheek. “Never change, Yurio,” he says, releasing his cheek and giving it a pat.

 

Yuri rubs his cheek, glaring. “Yeah, whatever.”

 

Otabek returns with their drinks, handing one to Yuri, which he takes with a quiet thanks. “Why aren't you two dancing?” Yuuri asks them with a grin, sipping more of his champagne.

 

“I'd, uh, rather not,” Otabek says immediately, looking down at his feet. “I'm not the most graceful person off the ice, to be honest.”

 

“And I just don't want to,” Yuri answers with a shrug.

 

Yuuri raises an eyebrow, downs the rest of his drink, then takes their untouched drinks from their hands and sets them down. Grabbing each of them by the wrist, he pulls them to the dancefloor. “You two are gonna have some fun,” he says decisively, coaxing them into moving their bodies. Otabek looks uncomfortable, but Yuri just sighs in resignation. “I'm not having another dance battle with you,” he warns Yuuri, making the older man flush with embarrassment. “But since it's your wedding day, I'll humor you, I guess.”

 

Yuri reaches up to ruffle his hair, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Thanks, Yurio.”

 

Viktor spots them, dance battle with Chris forgotten, and makes his way over. His tie is hanging loosely around his neck, most of the buttons of his shirt popped open (some are gone completely, leading Yuri to believe that the dumbass had ripped his shirt open), and Yuuri raises an eyebrow at him. “It's very hot,” Viktor tells him, picking another button open.

 

Yuuri reaches up to slide a hand through his husband's slightly sweaty hair, tucking an errant strand behind his ear. “What am I ever going to do with you?” he asks fondly, thumb stroking Viktor's cheek.

 

Viktor catches his hand and kisses the pad of his thumb, smiling. “You can't say anything, _lyubov_. You were much worse at that banquet,” he reminds him.

 

Yuuri flushes redder, but doesn't back down. “You liked it,” he retorts, leaning in to bump their noses together.

 

“ _Loved_ it,” Viktor corrects, tugging him in closer and pressing a kiss to his lips.

 

“Okay, we're getting away from here before they start fucking on the dancefloor in front of us,” he leans down to mutter in Otabek's ear, grabbing his wrist and pulling him toward the edge of the dancefloor.

 

“Do we really have to dance?” Otabek asks, looking like he'd rather do anything else.

 

“C'mon, it _can_ be fun,” Yuri promises, cracking a smile. “Just do what I do.”

 

Otabek doesn't look convinced, but he hesitantly follows Yuri's lead nonetheless. And after a few songs, he seems to truly relax, laughing freely and dancing around Yuri seemingly without a care in the world. And as Yuri watches him, he gets a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, unlike anything else he's ever felt. When he looks at the wide smile on his face and his sparkling eyes, the feeling only intensifies.

 

_What the fuck is this?_ he asks himself, finding himself unable to look at Otabek's face anymore.

 

Thankfully he's saved from thinking too hard about it, because Mila and Sara find them then. Yuri doesn't feel annoyed at Mila anymore, after all, he's used to shit like that from her. Plus, she's a little drunk, which is pretty hilarious.

 

“Otabek,” she slurs, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Dance with me for a song, please?” she begs, giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

 

Otabek looks at Yuri like he's asking for help, but Yuri just shrugs. “She isn't going to leave you alone if you don't give her one song, so you might as well just get it over with,” he tells him, barely hiding his grin.

 

Reluctantly, he lets himself be dragged toward the center of the dancefloor, and Yuri watches them fondly.

 

Beside him, Sara takes a sip of water, clearly a little more sober than her girlfriend. “I'm glad you two made up,” she tells him, offering a smile. “He was very sad all night, we tried to get him to drink with us a little but he wouldn't.”

 

Yuri sighs. “I realized I was being an asshole. Well, Viktor helped me realize it, I guess. So I, uh, apologized,” he replies, attempting a nonchalant shrug. “I know he didn't mean any harm, so...I felt bad for snapping at him like I did.”

 

“Well, it's all water under the bridge now,” she says cheerily, slapping him on the back. “So when are you gonna tell him how you feel?” she asks, raising an eyebrow and lightly jabbing his side playfully.

 

His brows knit together. “What are you talking about? What is that even supposed to mean?”

 

She snorts. “Come on, you can't lie, it's written all over your face!” she insists.

 

“I have no fucking clue what you're talking about, care to enlighten me?”

 

Her eyes widen, mouth falling open, and then she starts to laugh almost hysterically. “Oh my _god_ , you can't be this oblivious! You're telling me you really don't realize it?”

 

He sighs impatiently, crossing his arms. “Realize _what_? Just spit it out already!”

 

She wipes tears from her eyes, still shaking with laughter, and lays her free hand on his shoulder as she turns him so that she can look him dead in the eyes. “You've got it bad, kid. I can't believe you haven't realized you're in love with him yet,” she wheezes, doubling over a little.

 

His eyes go wide. “No, you've got it all wrong, he's my best friend―”

 

“You need to be a little more self aware,” she cuts in, expression morphing into something a little more sympathetic as the laughter starts to subside. “Yuri, when Mila and I walked over, you were looking at him like he was the sun or something. That's not a look you give your best friend, I'm sorry to burst your bubble.”

 

“You don't know what you're talking about,” he tells her, and why is he breathing so hard? Why does he feel panic clawing at his insides?

 

“Hey, calm down,” she says gently, patting his shoulder. “If you're not ready to accept it, then whatever. Just be aware, at least.”

 

“There's nothing to be aware of,” he argues, taking a deep, shaky breath. “You're making something out of nothing. He's my best friend, end of story.”

 

“Whatever you say,” she shrugs. “It's your life.”

 

“Yes, it is, so I'd appreciate it if you and your girlfriend wouldn't meddle and make stupid, baseless assumptions,” he mutters, crossing his arms. _Imagine_ , him being in love with Otabek? What a fucking laugh. He doesn't want _or_ need to be in love, he just wants to focus on his skating. And maybe keep hanging out with Otabek whenever he has the chance. Not because he's in love, but because he likes being around Otabek. Because Otabek is a cool guy. A cool guy who isn't deterred by his admittedly shitty personality and who just so happens to have a really nice smile and okay _no,_ not going there―

 

A squeeze on his shoulder tears him out of his thoughts, and he finds Sara looking at him with soft amethyst eyes. “I can see the wheels turning in your head, kid,” she tells him, sighing. “It's scary, but it'll be okay.”

 

When the song ends, Otabek returns with a pouting Mila, who's whining about wanting one more song. Sara intercepts her, taking her by the hand and twirling her before dipping in for a kiss that immediately shuts her up. Mila's cheeks go pink, arms wrapping around her girlfriend's neck, and Yuri looks away because he is _not_ prepared to deal with anything lovey-dovey right now. Not that he ever really wants to, but he wants to even less after the fucking bomb Sara had dropped on him that's making him question everything he knows about himself and his friendship with Otabek.

 

When he glances over at his friend, he finds him blank-faced, not smiling like before. Cold panic claws its way up Yuri's spine when he sees this―he swears if Mila had said anything to Otabek like Sara had to him, he's going to actually murder her this time.

 

“I don't know about you, but I could use a drink,” Yuri says to break the overwhelming silence between them. Their drinks from before are who knows where, and he hadn't even gotten to take a sip of it so he's quite thirsty.

 

“Okay, let's go get something to drink then,” Otabek replies, scratching the back of his head.

 

As the night goes on, they manage to dispel the awkwardness, but the air stays weirdly charged between them, like there's something they're both dying to say but refuse to admit. It makes Yuri incredibly uneasy, and it stays with him even after helping the Katsukis clean and when he and Otabek head to bed.

 

_Fuck_ , he thinks, closing his eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yuri is fuckin shook yall
> 
> anyway i love sara and mila and im determined to cram as much sarami content into this fic as i can honestly so look forward to that?? they're beautiful gfs fight me if u don't like it
> 
> also i just wanna reiterate that nothing happens between yuri and otabek while yuri is underage. he starts to realize his feelings, yes, but nothing will be acted on until later.
> 
> anyway, next chapter is where the Angst™ comes in, so yall can look forward to that B) as always, feedback is appreciated, so hmu in the form of a comment or an ask/message on [tumblr](http://nikiforohv.tumblr.com) \o/
> 
> until next time!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brace urselves for some yuri tears, bc theyr'e coming ur way now :')
> 
> this chapter was fun to write, i hope y'all enjoy it!!

Summer ends, and competition season starts. Yuri pushes every thought from his mind that doesn't have anything to do with practice, knowing he can't afford to be distracted if he wants to win. He watches Yuuri continue to improve with every day that passes, and even though Viktor is a fucking geezer at this point (he's almost 30, he's practically ancient), he isn't slowing down either. He feels like if he even stops to catch his breath, he's going to lose to them.

 

He and Otabek still manage to talk at least a couple times a week, but it's not nearly as much as before. There's something weird, almost strained, between them, and they're honestly lucky if they manage to string together more than a few texts in each conversation. Yuri doesn't like it, doesn't like feeling like the only good friend he's ever had is slipping away from him, but he can't worry about it right now. He's sure it'll pass when they have more time to talk, probably.

 

_Hopefully_.

 

“You're distracted,” Yakov snaps at him as he warms up one morning. “Snap out of it, you need to be in top condition for Skate America!”

 

“Sorry,” Yuri mumbles, shaking his head.

 

“You aren't getting sick, are you?” Lilia questions, raising a sharp eyebrow.

 

He shakes his head. “I'm fine, I just zoned out.”

 

“Well you'd better zone in, or you can kiss a spot on the podium goodbye,” Yakov mutters.

 

Taking a deep breath, Yuri skates some circles around the rink, doing easy jumps to get himself warmed up. Mila skates over to move beside him, glancing over. “You sure you're okay?” she asks, voice barely higher than a whisper. “You look tired.”

 

“I'm fine,” he repeats, rolling his eyes.

 

Mila sighs. “You say that, but you haven't been yourself lately. Did...something happen? With Otabek?”

 

Turning his head, he glares at her. “ _No_ ,” he grinds out, clenching his fists. “We're fine. We just...haven't had a lot of time to talk lately.”

 

“Maybe you should try and call him tonight or something,” she suggests. “You just...seem really unhappy, so...”

 

“For the last time, Mila, I'm _fine_ ,” he practically growls, regretting it when he sees the hurt look on her face. Here he goes, being an asshole again when people are only trying to look out for him... “Look, I'm sorry,” he says quietly, letting his hair fall in front of his eyes. “I appreciate the concern, but...back off, yeah? I'll sort my shit out on my own,” he continues, as nicely as he possibly can.

 

She sighs, but she doesn't look as hurt anymore. “What am I going to do with you,” she muses, ruffling his long hair. “Just...remember that you don't have to do things on your own, yeah? I care about you, you little shithead.”

 

“Whatever, shitty old hag,” he retorts, but there's fondness in his voice.

 

“This isn't social time!” Yakov calls from the other side of the rink, causing them to separate. “Let's get practicing routines. Mila, you're first!”

 

The ice clears except for Mila, and Yakov turns her music on. As Yuri watches her, he thinks that maybe her suggestion isn't so bad―maybe he _will_ call Otabek later.

 

* * *

 

_me: you free? can i call?_

 

He sends the text, fiddling anxiously with his phone as he waits for a response. He's dead tired from practice and he honestly just wants to pass out at this point, but he wants to talk to Otabek more.

 

Apparently he's too tired, though because he can feel his body shutting down even though it isn't that late. He fights to keep his eyes open, but it's becoming impossible―considering how little sleep he's gotten the night before, he's not too surprised.

 

_Maybe I'll just rest my eyes for a few minutes,_ he reasons, allowing them to fall shut. _I'm sure my phone will wake me up when he answers._

 

His phone doesn't go off, though, and he sleeps through the night.

 

* * *

 

Yakov isn't at practice the next day, which is probably good because if he'd thought Yuri was distracted the previous day, then he'd probably burst a blood vessel seeing the condition he's in right now.

 

Nothing. He'd woken up to no new notifications from Otabek. No texts, no calls, nothing on Skype. He reminds himself that his friend is incredibly busy with his strict training. He gets it. But still, he can't help but feel a little hurt anyway, because at least he's trying to make an effort to talk to him even with their busy schedules...

 

“Yurio, maybe you should sit practice out for the day,” Yuuri says worriedly when Yuri attempts a triple flip and falls for what feels like the millionth time that day.

 

“I can't afford to sit practice out,” he replies through clenched teeth, pulling himself up.

 

“You're too distracted,” Viktor cuts in, and his voice is firm. He's in coach mode right now, it's clear. “All you're doing is creating opportunities to hurt yourself at this point. Go somewhere and clear your head, and if you feel ready to come back before practice is over, then fine. But right now, I want you off the ice.”

 

Yuri wants to argue, wants to ask who the fuck put Viktor in charge anyway, but then he sees the looks everyone is giving him and immediately deflates because he knows Viktor's right, as much as he hates it. “Fine,” he growls, heading toward the exit and skidding to a stop before stomping off the ice toward the locker room so he can take his skates off and get out of there.

 

He decides to just wander around, not wanting to go home and do nothing. Walking has always cleared his head, so he figures it's at least worth a shot.

 

A little while into his walk, his phone starts to buzz insistently. He jumps and nearly falls, so deep in thought that it had startled him, and sighs as he reaches into his pocket to dig it out. It's probably stupid Viktor calling to check on him or something, even though the bastard had sent him away less than an hour ago.

 

But when he sees the name on the screen, it's not Viktor

 

_beka is calling..._ his screen displays, and a rush of fluttery excitement goes through him as he immediately answers.

 

“Asshole, took you long enough,” he grumbles, but he can't hide the excitement in his voice.

 

“ _Sorry,”_ comes Otabek's soft voice through the speaker. It feels like ages since he's heard it, even though it's really only been a couple weeks. Still, when you're used to hearing someone's voice almost every day, a couple weeks can feel like an eternity. _“I've been...busy.”_

 

“Yeah, me too,” Yuri sighs, plopping down on a nearby bench. “Practice has been brutal for me, I guess it's been pretty crazy for you, too.”

 

Otabek hums, and Yuri's brow furrows. Otabek's never been the most talkative person around, but he seems even quieter than usual today. “Is something up?” he asks, a little hesitantly. “You're really quiet.”

 

“ _Just tired,”_ he answers, and he sounds it.

 

“Are you okay? You better not be pushing yourself too hard...”

 

He hears a chuckle, and it soothes the worry in his heart. _“I'll be fine. Between practice and Alfia, I just haven't had a whole lot of time to myself to recharge, so...I'm just a little drained right now, I suppose. It's nothing to worry about though, really.”_

 

“If you're sure.” Then, Yuri's brow creases. “And...Alfia? Did you get a dog or something?”

 

The line goes silent for a moment, so silent that Yuri is momentarily worried one of them had lost connection or something. But then he hears Otabek let out a long breath, and when he speaks again, Yuri's stomach drops. _“Right, I guess I haven't told you since we haven't had much time to talk lately, but...I have a girlfriend now, her name is Alfia.”_

 

Yuri feels like the breath has been punched right out of his lungs. “Since when?” he asks, coughing to cover the way his voice cracks.

 

“ _About a month ago, I guess,”_ he answers. _“She's my coach's niece, her and her parents just moved back here from America. She comes and watches practice every day, and one day she asked me on a date. I...couldn't think of a good reason to say no, so I agreed to go.”_

 

“It doesn't sound like you really even like her all that much,” Yuri points out, somehow managing to keep his voice even despite the fact that he feels cold all over, like someone had injected ice into his veins.

 

Otabek hums again. _“She's nice enough. I'm sure...I'm sure I'll grow to like her more the longer I'm with her. She seems to like me a lot, so I figured I should at least give it a try...”_

 

“...that's honestly kind of a shitty reason to be with someone,” Yuri mutters after a pause. At some point, he'd started to shake.

 

“ _Yuri...?”_ Otabek questions, obviously thrown off by his tone.

 

“Sorry, I have to get back to practice,” he says, and then without even waiting for a reply, he hangs up.

 

Otabek has a girlfriend. A _girlfriend_. And he hadn't thought to tell Yuri about it before now.

 

Why does it bother him so much that Otabek has a girlfriend? He should be happy for him, even though he's pissed that he waited so long to tell him. He's his best friend, he shouldn't feel so sick about the fact that he's dating someone...

 

_It bothers you because you're in love with him,_ a voice that sounds suspiciously like Sara's whispers in the back of his mind.

 

...no, it can't be. Can it?

 

Is this why it feels like someone is squeezing his heart right now?

 

Maybe he _has_ been lying to himself and ignoring all the signs up until now. Because...being in love with Otabek had never seemed like a good idea. Relationships had the potential to be very messy. Some people just aren't compatible in that sense, and it ruins whatever relationship there is between them when they figure that out. What he and Otabek have together has always been simple, uncomplicated, and maybe subconsciously he'd been trying to avoid doing anything that could threaten that.

 

His phone buzzes with multiple texts, and he glances down. As he reads them, they continue to pour in.

 

_beka: Yura?_  
beka: You hung up so suddenly that I didn't get to say goodbye...  
beka: I'm sorry if you're angry that I waited so long to tell you about her.  
beka: I guess I didn't think it was all that important.  
beka: Or maybe you're angry because I haven't been able to make much time to talk lately.  
beka: I'm so, so sorry if that's the case.  
beka: I'll try and do better from now on.  
beka: Because I've missed talking to my best friend  
beka: Yuri I'm so sorry  
beka: Please forgive me for whatever I did  
beka: Text or call me later if you want, I promise I'll answer no matter what.

 

The screen blurs, and distantly, Yuri realizes it's because he's crying. Hastily, he reaches up to wipe his eyes with the back of his sleeve, but it does nothing―the tears immediately just fill his eyes again, and he feels his chest start to burn as a sob works its way up his throat.

 

Sticking his phone back into his pocket almost violently, he starts to run in the direction of his apartment. People stare as he goes, but he honestly doesn't have it in him to care right now, not when he feels like the ground is crumbling under his feet.

 

When he makes his to the door of his apartment, his lungs are burning as he doubles over, heaving for air. He somehow manages to get his key out and let himself in, throwing his bag down by the door and kicking his shoes off before stumbling to his room and collapsing face first onto his bed. It's here that he allows himself to _really_ cry, shoulders shaking as heaving sobs claw their way out of his throat. He doesn't think he's ever cried this hard over anything, and the more rational part of his mind tells him he's being stupid, but he can't help it―he feels like he has no control over himself right now, and it's actually kind of terrifying.

 

He cries so hard he gives himself a headache―he's sure he's never cried this hard in his life, honestly. When the tears finally subside god knows how long later, he wraps a blanket around himself and shuffles out to the kitchen to get some painkillers, swallowing them with a mouthful of tap water. He doesn't dare look in a mirror, knowing he's probably a goddamn mess and not wanting to have to see how pathetic he is.

 

He heads back to bed and closes his eyes, hoping he'll just fall asleep for a little while. Instead he lays there for what's probably hours, mind buzzing with thoughts he'd rather not have that, unfortunately, leave him wide awake.

 

He hears the front door open a while later. “Yuri?” Mila calls. He hears her shoes hit the floor as she slips them off. “Are you home? If you are, you better have a good reason for not answering your phone because everyone is worried...”

 

As if it has a mind of his own, his body carries him out of bed and to his door, which he cracks open slowly. He hears Mila turn her head at the sound, watches her eyes widen, and then her bag slips from her hand and hits the floor with a loud thud as she runs over. “Oh my _god_ , Yuri, you look like hell,” she gasps, hands fluttering around like she's not sure if she should touch him or not. “Are you alright?”

 

Again, his body seems to move on its own as he collapses against her, arms coiling tight around her middle. He'd thought he'd cried all the tears he had, but apparently he hadn't, because they start falling the second her arms wrap around him in return. He feels himself go into near hysterics as his legs give out beneath him, and instead of trying to hold him up, Mila just sinks to the floor with him, a gentle hand moving soothingly through his long, tangled hair as she hushes him softly, pressing his face into her shoulder.

 

“Hey, try and calm down so you can tell me what happened,” she says softly, gently combing through the knots in his hair.

 

He takes a moment to take deep breaths in an effort to calm himself, swallowing hard. “I'm in love with him,” he manages to choke out before another sob cuts him off, his entire body shaking.

 

Mila hums. “I know, Yuri, I guessed that way before the wedding. I was just waiting for _you_ to figure it out, too,” she murmurs, hand continuing its soothing motions. “Okay, so you love him. Why are you crying, hmm?” she gently prods, pulling back so that she can look at his face. The hand that's in his hair moves to thumb the tears from his face, and when he looks into her eyes, he sees more worry there than he's ever seen.

 

“He called me,” Yuri coughs out, the lump in his throat making it burn. “I...Mila, he has a _girlfriend_ ―” He squeezes his eyes shut, letting go of Mila so he can wrap his arms around himself instead. “I'm so fucking pathetic,” he cries, burying his face in his blanket.

 

“Oh dear,” Mila whispers before pulling him back to her chest, gently starting to rock him. “Yuri, I'm sorry,” she sighs, starting to stroke his hair once more. “It's okay to be upset, you aren't pathetic at all. He's the first person you've ever loved like that, after all. Please don't be too hard on yourself for being upset, it's a perfectly normal reaction to something like that...”

 

“But it _is_ pathetic,” he grinds out, shaking his head. “It's not like I had a chance with him like that, anyway, so what the fuck is the point of being upset? I should be happy for him, like a _good_ friend. But he―he doesn't even sound like he likes her, so I just―” He slams a fist into the floor, letting out an embarrassing wail into Mila's shoulder as a fresh wave of tears starts to fall. “Why can't it be me, Mila?” he asks, sounding pathetically heartbroken and totally unlike himself.

 

He hears Mila sniffle and pulls away, finding her eyes full of tears. “I never thought seeing you cry like this would be so awful,” she mumbles, wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. “I don't like it, Yuri, and I don't know how to make it better...”

 

“I wish I didn't feel anything,” he whispers, sinking back down against her shoulder. “I...I wish he'd never asked me to be his friend. Then I wouldn't have...” He swallows around the lump in his throat before he continues. “Then I wouldn't have fucking...fallen in love with him or whatever, and...I wouldn't have to feel so fucking shitty about it,” he finishes, biting his lip to keep another sob at bay.

 

Mila sucks in a shocked breath, and then she's hugging him tighter. “You don't mean that at all, Yuri,” she says gently. “I know you don't.”

 

“...maybe I don't,” he acquiesces, taking a shaky breath. “But...right now, it would be nice to not feel this way.”

 

“I know,” she hums, rubbing his back. “Love isn't always pretty, unfortunately. Especially when you're new to it.”

 

“Why the fuck does anyone put themselves through this shit, then?”

 

She hums again, sounding contemplative this time. “I guess because in the end, the good outweighs the bad. Most of us would rather love and be hurt than not love at all, myself included.” A soft laugh leaves her. “Maybe that makes us a bunch of masochists or idiots or something, I don't know. But the hope that it'll all be worth it someday is what keeps people going, keeps letting them fall in love, I suppose. I mean, look at Georgi―he always says he's swearing love off, but has he ever actually gone through with it? Even though he's been dumped time after time, he keeps going, because deep inside, he hopes the next time will be the last.”

 

“Sounds fucking stupid to me,” he mumbles, rubbing his face into her shirt.

 

“Maybe it is, but humans aren't exactly the smartest sometimes,” she points out, playing with the ends of his hair. “My point is, love can be awful sometimes, but more often than not...it's wonderful, and it's worth the not-so-wonderful times.” She gently pushes him into a sitting position again, wiping at his face with the sleeve of her sweater. “Just...don't write things off between you and him yet, Yuri. Things will happen the way they're supposed to. Don't let this ruin your friendship with him, okay? It'll be hard, but I know for a fact that you'd rather have him in your life than be without him.”

 

“I fucking hate it when you're right about stuff,” he mutters, rubbing his eyes. His eyes land on a big wet spot on her shoulder, and embarrassment floods through him. “...sorry for crying all over your sweater,” he says quietly, avoiding her eyes.

 

She smiles, her own eyes still a little wet, and ruffles his hair. “It's not a big deal, it can be washed. I'm just glad you got it out of your system, since you're kind of emotionally constipated most of the time.”

 

“Shut up,” he shoots back, but there's nothing mean in his tone. He's really grateful to her right now, honestly, because she'd somehow managed to make him feel better and hadn't made fun of him for crying like he worried she might've. They may fight like cats and dogs, but he supposes they have each others' backs when it really matters.

 

Standing, Mila reaches down with her hands outstretched to help him do the same. “Come on,” she says, smile morphing into more of a grin. “We're gonna watch shitty movies and paint each other's nails. I think we have some ice cream we can eat, too.”

 

“That is the dumbest, most cliche thing I've ever heard,” Yuri tells her, but he accepts the help and stands up, pulling his blanket tighter around himself and wiping the last of his tears from his face. “And ice cream? Really? Yakov would kill us if he found out we ate ice cream.”

 

Mila shrugs. “Guess we'll just have to make sure he doesn't find out then, huh?” she answers with a wink. “Come on, live a little!”

 

“Fine,” he sighs. “But if he finds out, I'm blaming you. I'll tell him you force-fed me.”

 

She rolls her eyes, pushing him toward her bedroom. “Go pick something to watch and get comfortable, I'll get the goods.”

 

He does as he's told, hopping onto her bed and grabbing the remote so that he can scan through the movie channel for something to watch. He settles on a shitty slasher film and pauses it, waiting for Mila.

 

She returns with a tub of lowfat cookies and cream ice cream and two spoons. “It was in the back of the freezer and it's probably been there for a while, so it was a little freezer-burnt,” she laments, letting out a sigh as she sinks onto the bed beside him. “I scraped most of it off, though, so it should be fine.”

 

“Wonderful,” Yuri replies, voice dripping with sarcasm.

 

She shrugs. “Take it or leave it, brat.”

 

He's silent for a moment, and then he holds his hand out for a spoon. “Tonight can't get any worse anyway, so I guess shitty old ice cream is better than none at all,” he mumbles, not meeting her eyes.

 

She gives him a smug look and hands him a spoon, setting the half empty tub of ice cream between them. “Hit play,” she tells him, scooping up some of the ice cream and popping it into her mouth. “It's not bad,” she states, shrugging.

 

Hitting play, he scoops some up for himself, and hesitantly tastes it. “...yeah, I guess it's okay.”

 

They go mostly silent after that, chipping away at the ice cream and occasionally laughing at the bad special effects and pathetic attempts at jumpscares. When their spoons hit the bottom of the container, they scoop up the last dredges of it before setting the empty tub aside. Mila pats her belly, looking content. “That was good,” she hums. Yuri makes a vague sound of agreement, sinking back against the wall. He actually feels a little better now, surprisingly. “Time to paint our nails?” she asks him, blue eyes lighting up.

 

He shrugs. “I guess.”

 

Clapping, she leans over to her nightstand and grabs her basket full of nail polish. Yuri thinks she must have just about every color imaginable crammed in there―he doesn't care, though, as long as she has black.

 

“I suppose I don't even need to ask what color you want,” she sighs, already reaching for the black.

 

He snorts. “I like what I like.”

 

She rolls her eyes, shaking the small bottle, and grabs one of his hands, setting it on her thigh. “Stay still unless you want me to mess it up,” she warns, twisting it open.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says dismissively. “Just make them look halfway decent, please.”

 

“Wow, Yuri Plisetsky saying please? Is the world ending?” she mocks, turning his thumb so she can paint it.

 

“Hilarious,” he mutters.

 

Quickly but precisely, she paints the first coat on each of his hands, letting them dry for a few minutes before applying the second coat. Yuri likes the look of the black, likes how stark it is against the paleness of his skin―on the rare occasions that he lets Mila paint his nails, he always chooses black because of this. Besides, he's not sure he could pull off an actual color, unless maybe it's a dark blue or something...

 

Once his nails are dry, Mila starts digging through the colors she has to find the right one for her own nails. “I don't understand why you need so many colors,” Yuri grumbles, shaking his head. “Just pick one already.”

 

She gives him a sour look. “It's a tough decision, okay? I'm not boring like you, I don't like to paint my nails the same color every time.”

 

He rolls his eyes, reaching in and grabbing the first color he can―it's a nice, almost sparkly purple. “What about this one?”

 

Mila's eyes light up. “It looks like Sara's eyes! It's perfect!”

 

Yuri makes fake gagging noises. “That's the gayest thing you've ever said.”

 

She raises an eyebrow. “I highly doubt that,” she replies, tone dubious. She thrusts her hand toward him, wiggling her fingers. “Anyway, get to work!”

 

He sighs, shaking the bottle. “Whatever, your _highness_ ,” he answers, twisting the bottle open. He starts painting her long, well-kept nails, moving as slowly and carefully as he can so that he doesn't mess it up. He doesn't do it often, so when he does, he has to be extra careful not to get it on the skin instead of the nail.

 

“I'm gonna be an old lady before you finish,” Mila complains.

 

He stops, brandishing the small brush like it's a weapon. “Would you like me to get it all over your skin instead? Because I could totally do that.”

 

“...carry on.”

 

“That's what I fuckin' thought.” He goes back to painting her nails, moving on to the other hand. “I haven't seen your nails this long in a while,” he observes, then swears when he accidentally gets a glob of purple on the skin of her thumb, hastily wiping it with his own thumb.

 

Mila snorts, a shit-eating grin on her face. “I haven't been able to see Sara in a while, so I haven't been worried about cutting them.”

 

It takes a moment, but the meaning of her words sinks in and Yuri feels his mouth drop open in horror. “Oh my fucking _god_ , you're fucking gross!” he exclaims.

 

She shrugs. “What, I'm just telling the truth.”

 

“Okay well I didn't need to know!”

 

She pinches his cheek. “You're cute, Yurotchka, getting all embarrassed over this,” she coos.

 

“I literally hate you,” he tells her, shuddering and dipping the brush back into the nail polish before reluctantly continuing to paint her nails.

 

“But you don't,” she teases. “You _loooove_ me.”

 

“Yeah right,” he mumbles, finishing the last nail. They'll still need another coat, but they need time to dry properly first.

 

“This is fun,” Mila comments, smiling. “We should do this more often.”

 

He scoffs. “Not if you're gonna be gross.”

 

“You're basically asking me to not be myself,” she pouts.

 

He makes a “what can you do?” gesture with his hands. “Shame.” Within the pocket of his sweater, he feels his phone vibrate, but he ignores it.

 

“Aren't you going to check your phone?” Mila questions.

 

He swallows hard. “It's probably Beka,” he tells her, suddenly feeling subdued.

 

She lets out a long sigh. “You're just going to ignore him?”

 

“And if I am?”

 

She shakes her head, sighing again. “Yuri, I know you're hurting, but you shouldn't ignore him. He isn't intentionally trying to hurt you,” she reasons.

 

“My stupid gigantic crush on him aside,” he begins, wincing as he says it, “he didn't think it was important to tell me for a whole month, Mila. He's my best friend, and he waited a fucking month to tell me something this big. If for some reason I ever started dating someone, you can bet your ass he'd be the first person I told.”

 

“Maybe he just didn't think it was that big of a deal?”

 

“That's what he said,” Yuri replies. “Still, I don't like it. It makes me feel like I'm not important enough to know,” he admits, wrapping his arms around himself.

 

“Yuri, don't be ridiculous, you're so important to him,” she argues. “Maybe he just hasn't told anyone yet, you know he's a private guy.”

 

“I just...I tell him everything, Mila. I guess I expected him to do the same, but maybe I was wrong.”

 

“People have different boundaries,” she points out. “Just because you do some things a certain way, it doesn't mean everyone else does, too.”

 

He rolls his eyes, frustration building inside of him. “Obviously I _know_ that. Just...let me be fucking petty in peace,” he mutters.

 

“As long as you realize you're being petty,” she acquiesces.

 

They fall silent, turning their attention back to the movie. It's almost over―they're going to have to pick another one soon. After a little while, he grabs Mila's hand again, reopening the nail polish to start on the second coat. “This is a nice color on you,” he tells her, voice quiet.

 

She hums, and when he glances up, her eyes are soft. “I like it too,” she agrees with a smile. “It's weird. They make me miss her more _and_ less at the same time,” she explains.

 

“Is it hard?” he asks hesitantly. “Being in a relationship with someone in another country, I mean,” he clarifies, cheeks reddening. He realizes suddenly that he's never really talked to Mila about her relationship with Sara before, and he feels a little bad about it.

 

“I won't lie, it's fucking awful,” she replies, sighing. “I miss her constantly. It doesn't help that we're both always so busy training and stuff, which makes it hard to see each other much. But, when we do get to see each other...I guess we cherish our time together more than we would if we saw each other all the time. Don't get me wrong, I'd _definitely_ rather be with her all the time, but...I don't know, I guess this is fine for now. I'll take what I can get, because...I know I've dated other people in the past, and I thought I loved some of them, but...I've never felt so in love with anyone else. So all the awful parts are worth it if it means getting to call her my girlfriend, y'know?” Her cheeks go a little red. “Sorry, I think I went a little overboard there, you probably didn't want to hear all that...”

 

He shakes his head. “No, it's fine. I...” He pauses, swallowing hard. “I think I know what you mean. Even though I'm not dating him...I feel all of that toward Otabek. It's so great when I get to be with him in person, but then when it's time to leave...it's fucking miserable. It always has been.”

 

“Well, platonic and romantic love really aren't all that different, so it doesn't surprise me that you felt that way long before you fell in love with him,” she murmurs. “He's important to you, it's natural you'd want to be with him as much as possible.”

 

“If they're not that different, then maybe I'm just confusing myself? Maybe I don't actually love him the way I think I do?” He can tell he's grasping at straws, and the pitying look Mila gives him tells him that she can tell he is, too.

 

“I don't think so, Yuri,” she says gently. “But okay, let's try something so you can be sure. I want you to imagine kissing him. How would you feel about it?”

 

His face heats up, immediately going completely red. “What the fuck? What kind of shitty, weird question is that?!” he demands, embarrassment flooding his system at even thinking about imagining something like that.

 

She rolls her eyes. “Come on, just humor me here. Close your eyes and imagine it.”

 

“I'm not gonna do that―”

 

“ _Yuri_ ,” she says sharply, cutting him off. “Just trust me on this, okay?”

 

Letting out a huff, he snaps his eyes shut. “Fucking _fine_ , you weird old hag, I'll _try_.” And he does try, but lack of experience mixed with overwhelming embarrassment make his mind go blank. “...I don't even know what to imagine,” he admits, a fresh wave of embarrassment hitting him.

 

He hears her sigh. “Okay, fine, I'll help you out, because I'm a nice person. Imagine you're hanging out with him on your bed, and then...I don't know, you start having a tickle fight―”

 

“―that literally wouldn't happen,” he cuts in, but for some reason, the image rises clear into his mind. He can see Otabek's face crinkled with laughter, the outer corners of his eyes wet as Yuri tickles him...

 

“Whatever! Just go with it, it doesn't have to be realistic,” Mila grumbles, and then she continues. “Okay, so you guys are having a tickle fight, and one of you taps out. Your eyes open, and as you're both catching your breath, you find yourself being drawn in by his eyes―”

 

“This sounds like a shitty romance novel,” Yuri complains, but he hates how easy it is to imagine.

 

“Less talking, more imagining,” she snaps, pressing a finger to his mouth to shush him. “Anyway, you're drawn in by his eyes, and suddenly, _oops_! Your face is right in front of his! Would you look at that! And he's a little shocked that you're so close all of a sudden. _'Yura?'_ he'd say, all confused.”

 

“Was that supposed to sound like him?” Yuri asks, but embarrassingly, he can almost hear it in his voice anyway. _Damn,_ this is fucking embarrassing, why is he letting her do this?

 

“Listen, I never claimed to be good at impressions, just shut up and keep listening!” she says, sounding exasperated and a little annoyed. “ _Anyway_ ,” she starts again, “so, he's confused, right? And you suddenly realize how close you are, and you're like, _'oh shit, my mouth is super close to his mouth, I gotta get outta here before he thinks I'm trying to kiss him or something because you know I totally don't wanna do that because I'm so far in denial at this point and I'd have no idea what to do with my overwhelmingly gay feelings for my best friend even if I did acknowledge their existence'_ ―”

 

“You're literally the worst,” he tells her, tone dark.

 

She ignores him in favor of continuing. “So like, you start to pull away, all embarrassed and stuff, but suddenly, he pulls you back in! And you're like, _'Beka?'_ and he's like, _'Tell me if I'm reading things wrong, but...were you going to kiss me?'_ And you just like, burst into flames or something because you're a baby who can't articulate his feelings? But like, you wanna be truthful, so you say _'I think I might've been, but like? Who knows, I totally don't know anything about anything'_ and he just laughs at you a little, and then he cups your face with his hand and your heart starts to pound or something like that, I don't know. _'How do you not know?'_ he asks you, and you just shrug because I don't know, you're too cool for words or whatever―”

 

“Why do I feel like you aren't even taking this seriously anymore?”

 

She snorts. “Sorry, sorry, I couldn't help it.” Clearing her throat, she keeps going. “Okay, so you say, _'I don't know what I feel, I guess'_ and he's just like, _'Well, if you want...I can help you figure it out.'_ You like, silently die, but act super cool on the outside because emotions are for nerds, and you're like _'Okay, I guess that'd be cool.'_ So he pulls you back in real slow, giving you all the time in the world to change your mind but obviously you're not going to do that? So you tell him to hurry up, and it makes him laugh, but he does. And then, he's kissing you. How do you feel?”

 

Yuri wonders if it's possible for a person to spontaneously burst into flames. He thinks he may be very close to doing just that, heat coming off of his face in waves. “I feel like that was stupid and unnecessarily long and also unrealistic because Otabek would never act like that,” he snaps, but his voice shakes. His mouth feels dry, and he swallows hard to try and return a bit of the moisture he'd lost, but it doesn't help. He's so fucking embarrassed, what the fuck? He's going to kill Mila.

 

“That doesn't answer my question.”

 

Biting his lip, he hesitantly cracks his eyes back open, only to immediately snap them shut again when he sees the smug look Mila is giving him. “I think you already fucking know how I feel, you shitty old hag!” he growls, and seriously, he's never felt so fucking embarrassed in all his seventeen and a half years of life.

 

“I want to hear you say it,” she sings, poking his side.

 

Squeezing his eyes shut tighter, he clenches his hands into fists in his lap. “Okay, _fine_! I think I _do_ wanna fucking kiss him, okay? You fucking win! Is admitting it supposed to make me feel better or something? Because honestly, it just makes me feel ten times worse about this whole shitty goddamn situation!”

 

“Hey, look at me?” she asks, voice softening. Hesitantly, he does so, watching her face fall when she sees the tears building in his eyes once more. “I'm sorry, I promise it wasn't my intention to make you feel worse,” she apologizes, sincerity clear in her tone. “I just wanted to make sure you know what you're feeling. You can't run from it, Yuri, because running from it isn't going to help you at all. You need to face your feelings head on so that you can either get over him or tell him how you feel.”

 

“How can I fucking tell him how I feel when he's already with someone else?” he spits, an angry tear slipping down his cheek. “I'm not gonna fucking wreck a relationship, Mila, I'm not that awful of a person. If he's happy with her, then...I want him to stay with her. I don't want to interfere with his life like that.” Saying the words makes it feel like someone is stabbing a jagged piece of glass into his heart, but...Otabek is his best friend, and his happiness will always be a top priority.

 

“...that's really mature of you,” she tells him, reaching out to take his hand. She gives it a reassuring squeeze, brushing his hair back out of his face with her other hand. “Listen, you don't even know if things are going to last between them, okay? Please don't give up yet, because...I think, if you told him, he'd tell you he feels the same way. I don't think you notice the way he looks at you, Yuri.”

 

He hates the way her words make hope rise in his chest. Hoping is only going to hurt him, he knows it, but he can't help but latch on to it anyway. “...you really think so?” he asks, voice small.

 

She nods without hesitation. “Absolutely.”

 

“If that's true, then...why hasn't he made a move? Why is he with someone else?”

 

She sighs. “Because, like you, he probably figured he didn't have a chance, or maybe he didn't wanna risk losing your friendship. Maybe he's with her to try and get over you because of those reasons. I don't know, Yuri, unfortunately I don't have all the answers. But what I _do_ know is what I've seen with my own two eyes, and it's pretty obvious to me that there's something between the two of you.”

 

“...I should've listened to Sara at the wedding reception, when she told me I was in love with him,” he whispers. “I should've said something to him sooner, because if I had, then this wouldn't have happened―”

 

“There's no point in beating yourself up over it now,” she says, the words firm but her tone gentle. “You can't change the past no matter how much you wish you could. You just need to keep moving forward and hope for the best.”

 

“I know,” he mumbles. “I really do know, but...it just sucks.” His voice cracks, and he swears softly. “Mila, I don't wanna cry anymore,” he tells her, a lump rising in his throat.

 

Looking pained, she pulls him against her side, resting his head on her shoulder, and hugs him. “Shh, I know,” she soothes, kissing the side of his head. “You've just gotta let it out, though. It's okay, I promise I've got you.”

 

And for the third time that day, the dam breaks. He sobs and chokes and sniffles, and Mila lets him do it without complaint, a silent, comforting figure at his side. At some point the movie ends, but she doesn't make a move to put on a new one―she just continues to hold him and let him cry until he exhausts himself, falling asleep on her shoulder, and even when they wake up the next morning with sore necks and backs from sleeping the way they did, she doesn't begrudge him for it, even though it makes practice rougher on both of them.

 

And at that point, Yuri realizes that maybe she's always been a good friend to him, but he'd just been too blind or unwilling to acknowledge it. He makes a silent promise to himself to try and treat her better from now on, because...he thinks having her as a friend maybe isn't so bad.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can yall tell i love mila and also yuri/mila friendship? bc i do. very much.
> 
> so yuri had a bit of a breakdown, but, well, he's new to love and finding out the person you love is unavailable isn't fun at all so he's not having a fun time :') thankfully he has mila to help him sort through his feelings, though!! even if she still teases him through it...
> 
> feedback keeps me going, y'all, so feel free to tell me what you think of the chapter (or the fic so far, even) here in the comments section or on [tumblr](http://nikiforohv.tumblr.com) \o/
> 
> i'll try not to keep you guys waiting too long for the next chapter, so i'll see you all soon!!
> 
> (also i swear yuri and otabek are going to end up together dont worry ur pretty little heads ok)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO FRIENDS IM SOSOSOSOSOSOSOSO SORRY ABOUT THE WAIT
> 
> ive been working a lot lately and it was super draining :') but i had today off so here i am!!
> 
> this chapter focuses a lot on sara and mila's relationship buuuuut there's some otabek/yuri content in here too!! so i hope u all enjoy :')

This year, Yuri competes in the Skate America and the NHK Trophy. Otabek competes in neither―he'd been assigned to the Cup of China and the Trophee de France. They both advance to the finals, though, each of them making it onto the podium in both of their events and landing in third and fourth place respectively going into the Grand Prix Final.

 

Part of Yuri is sad about losing the chance to see him those extra times since time together is such a rarity, but another part of him is grateful to have a little more time to prepare himself. He'd stopped ignoring him a couple days after _it_ happened, and they'd started talking again on a semi-regular basis, but...he can't help but feel like things are different, even though they talk pretty normally. Maybe he's just being dumb, and maybe it's just because of his own stupid feelings that things feel weird. But thankfully, Otabek doesn't talk about his girlfriend that much―maybe he senses that it's not something Yuri wants to talk about, who knows.

 

He does occasionally post a picture of the two of them together on Instagram, though, and every time he does, it just makes Yuri feel that same bone-deep sadness he'd felt when he first found out. Mila is always there with shitty movies and snacks when it happens, and Yuri feels a new appreciation for her. She's become something like his rock in the past couple of months, and he honestly doesn't know what he'd do without her at this point.

 

So when she knocks on his door at four in the morning, cheeks wet with tears, he doesn't think twice before pulling her against his chest. He's about to ask what's wrong, but she starts to speak before he can even open his mouth.

 

“She told me it's too hard,” she wails into his chest, clenching the fabric of his loose shirt tightly in her fists. “She said that―that we should end it now, before it goes any farther. Said she loves me too much to make me s-suffer by continuing to date someone who lives so far away...” A giant sob tears through her, and it sounds painful. “Why, Yuri? Why doesn't she understand that I love her enough to want to stay with her regardless of the distance? Why now, after almost a whole year?”

 

“Shh,” he hushes her softly, patting the back of her head. He's never really been good at comforting people, but...she's been his shoulder to cry on for the past few months, and he'll be damned if he doesn't at least _try_ to do the same for her when she needs him. “She's fucking stupid if she doesn't realize how much you love her,” he tells her, voice taking on a steely tone. How the fuck could Sara do this to her, right before they're both supposed to compete in the Grand Prix Final? Is she a fucking idiot or something?

 

“I don't wanna lose her,” Mila cries, voice muffled by his chest.

 

“Shh, shh, I know,” he says in the most calming tone he can muster while his blood is boiling the way it is. He feels incredibly protective of her right now, and he hates that he doesn't know what to say to make it better. “Come on, let's lay down, you're staying in here tonight,” he tells her, tone leaving no room for argument. He feels her nod against his chest, and gently, he leads her toward the bed and climbs in, opening his arms to her. She immediately lays her head on his chest, wrapping an arm around him, her entire frame shaking hard. He's never seen her so distraught in his life, and he figures that this is how she must've felt when she saw him crying that day―watching someone you care about break down like this is...well, it fucking sucks. “What can I do?” he asks, unable to help the distress that's creeping into his voice. “Mila, I...I'm not good at this, I don't know how to help you...”

 

“Just hug me,” she whispers, squeezing him tighter. “I just need to know I'm not alone right now...”

 

“I can do that,” he promises, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. “Just...cry as much as you need to, okay? I'll be right here.”

 

That tears another sob from her throat. He can feel his t-shirt soaking through with her tears, but he doesn't even care―if this is what she needs to do, he's going to let her do it.

 

Eventually, when the light starts streaming in through the window, she goes quiet. A quick glance downward shows that she's finally asleep, drying tear tracks on her cheeks, and an ache goes through his chest. He pulls the blanket a little higher, not wanting her to be cold, and reaches for his phone with the hand that's not trapped beneath her. He searches through his contacts until he finds Sara's name, tapping it and creating a new message.

 

_me: i hope you realize how much you just fucked up_  
_me: she just cried on my chest for two hours straight_  
 _me: i hope you're fucking happy_  
 _me: look, if you don't love her anymore, then whatever_  
 _me: but fucking tell her that instead of giving her some bullshit excuse that it's for her sake_  
 _me: because you're just making it worse for her_  
 _me: she loves you so fucking much, sara_  
 _me: she told me she loves you more than she's ever loved anyone_  
 _me: so you need to either fucking fix this_  
 _me: or give her a firmer break up than that_

 

He sees her start to type after a moment, and after typing for a while, he receives a long message.

 

_sara crispino: yuri, i'm so sorry, i feel like such an idiot. i'm just stressed, and i know it's not an excuse, but i'm just so sad because i miss her so much and i hate that i can't just see her whenever i want to. then i think about how she must be just as sad, and it makes me feel so awful because there's nothing i can do to make it better. we thought we knew what we were getting into when we started dating, but i don't think either of us really understood how hard it would be...but i love her so much, and i don't want this to be the end, regardless of what i said to her earlier. i just...don't know how to fix this now. i don't even think i deserve her after i hurt her like this. but...if you know something i can do to fix this, please tell me. i'll do anything.  
sara crispino: please, yuri._

 

His fingers hover over the keyboard as he contemplates what he should do. He just wants Mila to be happy, and he knows being with Sara makes her happy, but he doesn't want to risk this happening again...

 

_me: if i help, you need to fucking promise me right now that youre not gonna pull this bullshit again_  
_me: because i have never seen her this upset in my life_  
 _me: and if i think theres even the slightest chance that youll put her through this again_  
 _me: then youre on your own_

 

Her response comes immediately.

 

_sara crispino: i promise._  
_sara crispino: i don't ever want to hurt her again, i swear._  
 _sara crispino: yuri please i love her so much_

 

He swallows hard, hoping he's making the right decision.

 

_me: fine._  
_me: im going to trust you_  
 _me: dont you dare make me regret it_  
 _me: if you want to fix things, then you need to come here and do it in person_  
 _me: doing it over the phone isnt gonna cut it_  
 _me: fucking show her how sorry you are and how much you love her_

She doesn't answer for a while, and Yuri shakes his head in anger. Figuring it's best to just try and sleep, he lets his eyes close...

 

...but just as he's falling asleep, his phone vibrates again. Swearing, he snaps his eyes open and reaches for his phone, blinking blearily at the bright screen.

 

Sara had sent him a screenshot of a plane ticket.

 

_sara crispino: can you pick me up from the airport tonight?  
sara crispino: my coach is going to kill me but i don't care._

 

Letting out a long sigh, he sets his phone down so he can rub his face before picking it back up and typing out a reply.

 

_me: ill see if viktor will lend me his car  
me: im going to sleep, text me when your flight gets here or whatever._

 

_sara crispino: thanks, yuri, i owe you big-time. i swear you won't regret helping me out._

 

His face sours.

 

_me: id better not._

 

He throws his phone aside, vowing not to look at it anymore. He's tired and practice is going to be hell, so he needs all the sleep he can get. He's uncomfortable in the position he's in and his arm is falling asleep, but he toughs it out―he doesn't want to disturb Mila if he doesn't have to, he just wants her to rest because if she's sleeping, then she doesn't have to be sad.

 

He remembers what she'd said before about preferring to love and be hurt over not loving at all, and he sighs. _How's that working out for you right now, huh?_ he thinks, gently brushing her hair out of her face. She stirs slightly, making a soft noise, and for a second he's scared he's woken her up―but then a loud snore leaves her, and he lets out a breath of relief.

 

“Things will get better tomorrow,” he promises, his voice a soft whisper, and then he allows his eyes to close again.

 

* * *

 

Watching Mila at practice the next afternoon is almost painful. Yakov yells at her almost constantly, telling her to snap out of it and get herself together, but it's like she doesn't even hear him―her eyes are blank, like she's running on autopilot.

 

Yuuri pulls him aside when they're all taking a break. “Is Mila alright?” he asks, concern in his eyes.

 

Slowly, Yuri shakes his head. “Don't say anything to anyone, but Sara called her and broke up with her last night,” he sighs, keeping his voice as low as possible.

 

Yuuri gasps, hands coming up to cover his mouth. “Oh, that's awful,” he says sadly, biting his lip. “Poor Mila...”

 

Yuri sighs again. “I'm going to tell you something, but you need to promise not to say anything. Especially not to Viktor, because he's a fucking loudmouth and I want it to be a surprise.”

 

“I won't say a word,” Yuuri promises, and Yuri trusts him.

 

“...so last night, after Mila managed to fall asleep in my room with me, I texted Sara because I was angry and I wanted her to feel bad about what she did. Because...Mila was really fucked up, I've literally never seen anyone cry so hard in my life.” He winces just thinking about it, but continues. “So Sara tells me she's just been stressed and sad about not getting to see Mila often, and said she felt bad for putting Mila through it too so she broke up with her because she somehow thought that would hurt Mila less? Which is fucking stupid, but whatever,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, she asked me how she can fix it, so I told her she needs to come here and do it in person. So...she's flying in tonight, and Mila doesn't know anything. Do you think Viktor will lend me his car so I can go get her?” he questions.

 

“I'll make sure he does,” Yuuri tells him, eyes wide. “Yuri...you're a really good friend to her,” he adds, expression softening. “It's nice that you're looking out for her like this.”

 

“Well...she's annoying, but she's good to me,” Yuri replies, shrugging.

 

Yuuri laughs a little, patting him on the shoulder. “How about this―I'll invite you and Mila for supper at our place tonight, and I'll get Viktor to send you to 'the store' for something I've forgotten to get. You can get Sara in that time, drop her off at your place, then come back for Mila. We'll keep her distracted while you're gone. Sound good?”

 

“I...yeah, that works,” he answers, eyes a little wide. “...thanks, Yuuri.”

 

The older man looks a little shocked at the use of his actual name, but it immediately morphs into happiness. “It's no problem,” he assures him. “I'll go talk to Viktor now, then.”

 

Yuri nods, watching him go, and decides to go find Mila. After a moment of searching, he finds her sitting on the floor against the wall, knees drawn up to her chest as she stares forward blankly, and it makes his chest ache to see her like this. It's so different from her usual personality, and honestly, he's really worried. Part of him wants to ruin the surprise and tell her that Sara's coming to (hopefully) make everything better, but...

 

No, it's better to leave it as a surprise.

 

“Hey,” he says softly, sitting down beside her. He holds out a bottle of water. “You should drink this.”

 

Slowly, she shakes her head the slightest bit. “Not thirsty,” she replies, and her voice cracks a bit at the end.

 

He sighs. “Mila, come on, you need to drink something,” he tells her, shaking his head. “You can't just shut down like this. I know you had a really shitty night but you need to take care of yourself...”

 

“Yuri, just leave me alone,” she sighs, sounding drained.

 

He tries to remind himself that she's hurting and that he shouldn't take it personally, but... “Fine, I'll just go away I guess,” he mutters, pushing himself up off the floor. He leaves the bottle of water beside her. “I'll be over there if you decide to stop being a fucking zombie or whatever.” He knows he shouldn't snap at her, but seeing her so upset is upsetting him and he doesn't know how else to react.

 

Sara had better actually fix this...

 

* * *

 

As planned, they head to Yuuri and Viktor's after practice for dinner. Even though Mila isn't being her talkative self, Yuuri and Viktor try and coax her to participate in the conversation as they eat anyway.

 

When she gets up to go to the bathroom later on, thankfully it's around the time that Sara's plane is supposed to land. Hastily, Yuuri shoves Viktor's keys into Yuri's hands and urges him toward the door. “Go, we'll tell her we sent you to the store,” he whispers. “The plane should be arriving any minute anyway, right?”

 

Yuri nods, closing his hand around the keys. “Thank you,” he breathes before ducking out the door as quickly as possible so he can get out before Mila sees.

 

His phone vibrates when he's about halfway to the airport, and he checks it once he stops at a red light.

 

_sara crispino: just getting my luggage, will you be waiting out front?_

 

He hastily types out a reply and sends it before the light turns green.

 

_me: ya ill get out of the car so you know its me_

 

Thankfully traffic is relatively light, and he makes it there after a few more minutes of driving. Zipping his coat up and tucking his hood around his face to prepare for the cold air outside, he steps out of the car, shivering immediately at the bitter cold as he leans against Viktor's car and waits.

 

Luckily he only has to wait a few minutes before he sees her emerge from inside of the airport, long hair blowing in the wind. Even from far away, she looks exhausted―he's assuming she hadn't gotten a whole lot of sleep, since she probably hadn't slept much the night before in order to pack her things and she'd taken the first flight out that she could find. He thinks he remembers her saying that she finds it difficult to sleep on planes, too, so that couldn't have helped things.

 

Silently, he pops the trunk so she can put her luggage inside, and then they climb into the car. He blasts the heat immediately after starting the car, shuddering. “It's fucking cold,” he mutters, pulling out of the parking lot to head toward his and Mila's apartment. The drive is uncomfortably silent―he's still pissed at her, and he's sure she senses that.

 

When they arrive a few minutes later, he pulls his keys from his pocket. “You remember which apartment it is, right? I need to go pick up Mila and give Viktor back his car.”

 

She nods, gingerly taking his keys from his hand. “Thanks,” she says quietly, not meeting his eyes. “I...I swear I'm going to make this right.”

 

He waves a hand at her. “Yeah, whatever, you'd fucking better.”

 

She gets out, grabbing her suitcase from the trunk, and he drives away once he sees her disappear through the door. He feels a weird kind of anxiousness as he drives back toward Viktor and Yuuri's, wondering if he really did the right thing. He hopes it's the right thing, but...there's no way to be sure, he supposes. He's just going to have to hope for the best.

 

He parks in Viktor's usual spot upon arriving at their apartment building, jogging inside and taking the elevator up. He lets himself in with Viktor's key, clearing his throat. “So, uh, they didn't have any at the store,” he says, hoping it comes off nonchalantly enough to be believable.

 

“Oh well,” Yuuri sighs, shrugging. “Viktor and I will try another store tomorrow. I'm sure you two want to get home now, hmm?” he asks, looking between Yuri and Mila.

 

“I guess,” Mila mumbles, rising from the couch where she's sitting with Makkachin. “...thank you for dinner, guys, it was great,” she tells them, but her tone is rather dull.

 

Yuuri smiles at her nonetheless, opening his arms for a hug which she gives him. “You're both welcome anytime, although I'm sure you both already know that.”

 

Yuri throws Viktor the keys. “Drive us home, gramps.”

 

Viktor sighs. “A 'please' would be nice,” he sulks, but he's already pulling a coat on and slipping his feet into a beat up old pair of sneakers.

 

“ _Please_ ,” Yuri mocks, tone dripping with sarcasm.

 

“You're such a brat,” Viktor laments, but he's smiling anyway. “Come on, let's go, then. You both look tired, you must want to just rest at home for the rest of the night.”

 

They head down in the elevator and pile into Viktor's car, Yuri sitting shotgun and Mila silently climbing into the back. “It's been a long day,” Viktor sighs as he pulls onto the street.

 

Yuri hums. “Tell me about it.”

 

“Longest fucking day of my life,” Mila says quietly from the back.

 

Viktor glances at her in the rearview mirror, sympathy in his eyes. “Everyone has bad days at practice sometimes,” he tells her. “Try not to beat yourself up over it, I'm sure tomorrow will be better.”

 

“I doubt it,” she mutters. “At this point, I just wanna get the Final over with.”

 

“Aw, don't be like that. Once you're there, you'll get caught up in the excitement and all your exhaustion will fade away!” Viktor exclaims, eyes going sparkly at just the thought of it. He glances at Yuri, grinning. “Are you excited to see Otabek again?” he asks.

 

Yuri nods, because, well, he _is_. “I haven't been able to see him since the wedding, so...it'll be nice, I guess.”

 

“You two haven't had much time to talk lately, have you?”

 

He shakes his head. “We're both so busy, and...he's busy with his girlfriend, too.”

 

Viktor snorts. “Is little Yurio jealous?” he teases.

 

_Yes, very,_ he wants to say, but instead he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “ _No_ ,” he replies, tone sour. “And fuck off, I'm taller than you now _plus_ I still have time to grow, so I don't think you can really call me little anymore.”

 

Viktor shakes his head. “You'll always be little to me,” he coos.

 

“Because you're a fucking geezer,” Yuri retorts.

 

“29 isn't that old,” Viktor sniffs.

 

“You'll be 30 in less than a month, I'd call that old.”

 

“Shh,” Viktor hisses, pouting. “Don't remind me.”

 

They continue ribbing each other until they reach Yuri and Mila's apartment building. Viktor stops in front of the door, letting them out, and waves. “I'll see you both at practice tomorrow,” he tells them before driving away.

 

They get to the door, and Yuri pretends to dig for the keys he'd given Sara. “Shit,” he curses, “I think I forgot my keys at the geezers' apartment. You have yours, right?” He really hopes so, otherwise he's going to have to call Sara to let them in and that'll definitely lessen the impact of the surprise.

 

Mila nods, digging through her bag and producing a set of keys. She slides the proper one into the lock and opens the door, and they head inside and climb the stairs in silence. When at last they reach their door, Mila unlocks it, too, pushing it open with a sigh.

 

Yuri steps inside first and glances around, finding Sara sitting on the couch. She immediately straightens up upon seeing them walk in, reaching up to smooth her hair down before she stands. Mila still hasn't noticed her, too busy leaning down to untie her shoes, so Sara hesitantly clears her throat and says, “Hi, _tesoro_.”

 

Mila's head instantly whips up at the sound of her voice, nearly falling over in her shock―Yuri catches her by the arm before she can actually fall, supporting her as she slowly rises to her full height. “ _Sara?_ ” she gasps, like she can't quite believe her eyes.

 

Sara nods, slowly moving closer until she's right in front of them, hands nervously toying with the hem of her sweater. “Yeah,” she replies, swallowing hard.

 

“How did you―why are you _here_?” Mila demands, and Yuri can see that all of her defenses have gone up.

 

Sara's lower lip begins to tremble. “I...had a conversation with Yuri last night, after what happened. You were already asleep, I guess. I told him I regretted what I did and wanted to fix things, so...I convinced him to help me,” she explains, wrapping her arms around herself. “I...caught the first flight I could, and Yuri picked me up and brought me here. I know you probably don't want to see me or hear what I have to say, but...please, Mila, I'm asking you to hear me out anyway, even though I don't really deserve it.”

 

Mouth open, Mila whirls toward Yuri. “You...you knew all day that she was coming, and you didn't say anything? You _talked to her_ after it happened? Yuri, what the fuck?”

 

He winces. “Okay, I'm sorry I didn't say anything, but I wanted it to be a surprise. Listen, I wouldn't have helped her at all if I'd thought she wasn't genuinely sorry about what she did or if I thought there was any chance of her hurting you again, so...not trying to gang up on you or anything, but...just hear her out.” He jerks his thumb toward the door. “I'm gonna get out of here so you guys can talk in private. Just...I don't know, text me when I should come back I guess?”

 

“Don't you fucking dare run away―” Mila starts to say, the words leaving her in a growl, but Sara cuts her off.

 

“Mila, please,” she begs. “Don't be mad at him, I begged him to help me. Just...let him go, and please just sit with me so I can try and make this right.”

 

Mila looks back and forth between them for a few seconds, an incredulous look on her face, and then finally sighs, biting her lip. “You came all this way, so...fine,” she says to Sara, not meeting her eyes. She turns to Yuri, then, expression unreadable. “I'll decide after this if I'm mad at you or not,” she mutters.

 

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Fine by me.” He steps out the door, saluting them. “Good luck with...this,” he tells them, and then he's pulling the door shut and taking off down the hall.

 

With nowhere else he can really go, Yuri heads to a nearby cafe to wait. He orders a mint tea when he gets there, claiming an empty spot in the corner to sit down, and pulls out his phone to text Otabek.

 

_me: you wouldn't believe the day ive had_

 

Surprisingly, Otabek answers rather quickly―Yuri must've caught him at a good time.

 

_beka: ? Care to elaborate?_

 

_me: itll be easier if i call, too long to type. you free right now?_

 

Rather than answer him in a text, Otabek calls him.

 

“Hey,” Yuri greets, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of his tea.

 

“ _Hey,”_ Otabek replies, and he sounds like he's smiling. Yuri's not sure why he thinks that, but whatever. _“What's up?”_

 

“Well, I'm sitting in a cafe at the moment because my apartment is currently off limits,” he sighs.

 

Otabek pauses. _“Do I even want to ask why?”_

 

Yuri snorts. “Well...let's start with what happened last night. Mila woke me up at like 4 in the morning because Sara called her and broke up with her, so that was...fun. By fun I mean fucking awful, I swear I've never seen anyone cry so hard before that. It took like 2 hours for her to tire herself out and fall asleep, so...me being me, I texted Sara to chew her out.”

 

“ _Oh no.”_

 

Yuri resists the urge to smile at the dread in Otabek's voice. “So, I text her, and she tells me she's just stressed and sad but she regrets it, so then she begs me to help her. I told her that she needed to come here to apologize and fix it in person, and I didn't think she actually would, but...then she sent me a screenshot of the plane ticket she bought. I took Mila to Viktor and Yuuri's for supper and they made an excuse for me to get out of the house so I could pick Sara up from the airport, then I dropped her off at our apartment, _then_ I went back to get Mila...” He rubs his face, tired from even just thinking about it all. “I left them alone to talk things out, so I'm stuck here until one of them texts me.”

 

“ _...wow. I can see why you didn't want to type all of that out, that's...a lot,”_ Otabek comments. _“Do you think things will end up okay between them? I can't imagine them not being together, they've always seemed so in love...”_

 

Yuri sighs. “As long as Mila is happy, I don't really care what happens. I mean, I like Sara enough, but she really fucked up, y'know?” He swallows hard. “I'm sure it's hard to date someone who lives in another country, but...if you really love them, you persevere.”

 

Otabek hums. _“I agree. Although, like you said, I'm sure it is really hard. It's hard enough having friends in different countries, don't you think?”_

 

_Don't say shit like that,_ Yuri thinks, raising a hand to his chest. “I...yeah, that's true. I miss your dumb-ass all the time,” he tells him, cheeks immediately heating up. He can't _believe_ he'd actually just said that, but, well, it's too late now.

 

He hears a soft laugh. _“I miss you too, Yura. It's been too long.”_

 

Yuri swallows hard. “Well...we'll see each other at the Final, so...only another week, yeah?”

 

Otabek makes an affirmative sound. _“I'm glad. Alfia is coming to watch, so you can finally meet her.”_

 

“Great, I can't wait,” he says with what he hopes is the right amount of enthusiasm, but the words feel like acid in his mouth. He takes comfort in the fact that he at least knows she's going to be there, so he'll have time to prepare himself.

 

“ _She's really excited to meet you,”_ Otabek tells him with a laugh. _“She must feel as if she already knows you with how much I talk about you,”_ he jokes.

 

_You're killing me here_ , he silently despairs. “I'm sure I'll somehow ruin her image of me,” he says with a shrug. “I'm not exactly good with people, y'know.”

 

“ _You've always been good when it comes to me,”_ Otabek points out.

 

Yuri's mouth falls open. “I...you're different.”

 

He hears Otabek snort. _“Y'know, I don't really think I am. I think I just shocked you so much by asking if you wanted to be friends that you let your guards down and forgot to put them back up.”_

 

“That's ridiculous,” Yuri argues, swallowing hard.

 

“ _Well, I don't think you'll be so bad if you don't want to be,”_ Otabek tells him. _“I'm sure Alfia will like you regardless. I've already told her you're a big softie on the inside, even though you try to hide it.”_

 

“...you did _not_ ,” Yuri groans. “Beka, you're singlehandedly going to ruin my entire image at this point.”

 

“ _What a shame that would be, getting more people to see the real you,”_ Otabek teases. _“The horror I feel at the thought of it is just too much to bear.”_

 

“You're a fucking shithead, Beka,” he grumbles.

 

“ _You love me anyway.”_

 

The statement shocks Yuri in to silence. _He knows?_ he thinks, panic crawling up his spine. _No, he can't know,_ he reasons with himself, shaking his head to clear it. _He must mean it platonically._ “You fucking wish,” he finally replies, sounding cool, but he's still pushing away the last of his panic.

 

Otabek lets out a yawn, and Yuri remembers that it's three hours later in Almaty. Suddenly, he feels kind of bad about calling―Otabek had probably been getting ready for bed. _“In Yuri-speak, that means 'Of course I do you fucking walnut but I'm too cool to say it so I'm going to deny it,' right?”_

 

He feels almost attacked. “...when have I _ever_ called you a fucking walnut?” is all he can think of saying in reply, embarrassed.

 

Otabek lets out a loud laugh. _“Never, but it sounds like something you'd say.”_

 

“I fucking hate you. Go the fuck to bed, it's late there, you shouldn't have even bothered calling me. You're probably exhausted.”

 

Otabek hums, letting out another yawn. _“I felt like talking to you, though. We don't talk on the phone enough anymore, I missed it.”_ He sighs deeply, and Yuri can hear the sound of something shifting―he's probably already in bed. _“But I guess I should sleep, I'm going for a run with my coach before practice tomorrow morning. Also, I hate you too―y'know, since that's Yuri-speak for 'I love you,' after all.”_

 

“I hope you know I'm about two seconds away from hanging up on you.”

 

He hears another laugh. _“Okay, okay, I'll stop,”_ he promises. _“Anyway, I hope you get to go home soon, and I hope things work out for Mila and Sara. I'll talk to you as soon as I can, but just in case I don't get a chance...I'll see you next week, Yura.”_

 

Yuri tries not to blush at the warmth he hears in Otabek's voice. “Thanks, Beka. I'll see you then,” he says softly. “Goodnight, sleep well.”

 

“ _Goodnight, Yura.”_

 

Yuri hangs up, slowly lowering his phone until it rests in his lap. For some reason, he feels tired now, like someone's scooped his insides out―it happens a lot now after speaking to Otabek on the phone, especially when Otabek speaks to him in that warm, gentle voice that he never seems to use when speaking to anyone else. He's not sure if it hurts or not at this point. Not sure if he'd care if it did, either, because he'd never want Otabek to stop calling him.

 

Slowly, he brings his mug to his lips, taking a sip of his cooling tea. He wants nothing more than to go home, put some pajamas on and watch movies until he falls asleep, but instead he just _has_ to be a good friend. Those two are gonna owe him _bigtime_ if things work out between them, he thinks.

 

* * *

 

He's grateful when Mila finally texts him nearly an hour and a half later and tells him he can come home, since he knows it's nearly time for the cafe to close. Taking his empty mug to the counter, he thanks the baristas and slips his coat on, pulling his hood up and putting his earbuds in for the walk home. It had started snowing at some point, and Yuri shivers―why is it so fucking cold? He tucks his hands into the sleeves of his coat and crosses his arms, trying his best to stay warm. Thankfully the apartment isn't far, at least.

 

When he reaches the outside door, he realizes he hadn't taken his keys back from Sara before leaving. Cursing, he pulls his phone out from his pocket and calls Mila's number, tapping his foot impatiently as he waits for her to answer.

 

She picks up on the fourth ring. _“Yes?”_ she answers, and he's relieved that she doesn't sound like a total zombie anymore but it doesn't change the fact that he's fucking cold and just wants to get inside.

 

“Sara still has my keys, come let me in,” he grumbles, teeth chattering. “I'm freezing my nuts off out here.”

 

Mila snorts. _“Okay, drama queen, I'll be right there,”_ she replies, and then she hangs up. Sighing, Yuri shoves his phone back into his pocket, along with his hands―the hand he'd been holding his phone with is already completely numb with cold even though it'd only been exposed to the cold air for less than a minute, and he can't wait to just get inside. Hopefully Mila had put the heat on.

 

She appears a moment later, pulling the door open. Yuri rushes inside, shivering violently, and stomps his feet on the mat to get the snow off his shoes. “Damn, you weren't lying about it being cold,” she observes, tugging the door shut. Yuri finally gets a good look at her face, taking in the redness around her eyes, but she doesn't look sad anymore. He takes that as a good sign.

 

“Of course I wasn't,” he mutters, pulling his hood down. They start walking up the stairs together, and Yuri lets the warmth of the building seep into him. “So I'm guessing it went well, since you don't seem to be mad at me right now?” he questions, raising an eyebrow.

 

“It went great,” she sighs happily. “She talked, I yelled, we both cried a lot, talked some more, and then we fucked. We're fine now.”

 

Yuri groans. “Y'know, you could've left some of the details out.”

 

She shrugs. “Just trying to share my life with you, you meddlesome little brat.”

 

He rolls his eyes. “You'd still be miserable right now if is wasn't for this 'meddlesome little brat' and you know it, you old hag,” he tells her, crossing his arms.

 

He expects her to have some kind of witty comeback, but instead, her expression goes soft and she stops him in front of the second flight of stairs. “I know,” she agrees, smiling. She pulls him in for a hug, squeezing him so tight that it becomes hard to breathe. “Thanks, Yuri...I really mean it. I owe you one.”

 

He disentangles himself, clearing his throat and trying not to flush with embarrassment. “It, uh, wasn't really a problem or anything,” he says nonchalantly, but he avoids her eyes. “It's just...you've been a good friend to me since the whole thing with Otabek, so...I wanted to try and be a good friend to you, too, I guess.”

 

She sucks in a surprised breath, tears building in her eyes. “Yuri...” Unable to help it, she pulls him in for another hug, though it's gentler this time.

 

“No need to get all weepy or anything,” he grumbles. “And stop clinging to me, you old hag, that's what your girlfriend is for.”

 

She laughs, letting him go and wiping a stray tear from her face. “You're a shitty little brat,” she tells him, tone fond.

 

“And you're a shitty old hag, so we're even,” he shrugs, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “C'mon, let's get you back to your girlfriend, yeah?”

 

Mila nods, and they head upstairs together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want more mila/yuri friendship honestly i love them so much :') i wanted to show that yuri cares about her just as much as she cares about him, so this happened?? it was hard to break sara and mila up (even temporarily) but!! they'll be even stronger from now on ok
> 
> so next chapter will include yuri and otabek meeting up at the hotel for the grand prix final!! he's also going to meet alfia, rip our poor boy :') anyway, i hope yall enjoyed the chapter!! i'll try not to go so long between updates again!!
> 
> as usual, hmu here or on [tumblr](http://nikiforohv.tumblr.com) and let me know what you thought!! i'll see yall soon \o/


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *crawls out from under a rock* .............hey guys
> 
> listen im so sorry this took so long i literally don't even have a good excuse?? i just got lazy and unmotivated but i am Here now, im hoping that doesn't happen again :')
> 
> i hope yall enjoy this chapter, i really am sorry it took so long!!

Sara flies back the next day after receiving a ridiculous amount of calls, texts and voicemails from both her brother and her coach. He feels a little bad for her, but not bad enough to regret telling her to come here―Mila had deserved an in-person apology for what she'd done, and it couldn't have waited until the Grand Prix Final because it was messing with Mila's ability to practice normally.

 

The last few days before the Final are...insane, for lack of a better word. Yuri spends every free moment practicing, and when he's not practicing, he's eating or sleeping. As expected, he and Otabek don't get to talk, save for a couple texts about how they're both dying from all the practice. Yuri doesn't mind, though―he's too busy to mind, really. He'll see Otabek in person soon enough, anyway.

 

The second Yuri's plane lands, though, he immediately texts him.

 

_me: you here yet or nah?_

 

It takes a moment, but Otabek soon answers.

 

_beka: Just got to the hotel a little while ago._

 

A nervous excitement fills Yuri then, and he hastily texts back.

 

_me: well, my plane just got in_  
_me: ill be at the hotel soon_  
 _me: meet me in the lobby? ill text you when im almost there_

 

_beka: Sounds like a plan. I can't wait!_

 

Yuri tucks his phone back into his pocket as they head to baggage claim, and Mila catches him grinning. “Is he already here?” she questions.

 

Yuri nods. “He's going to meet me in the lobby. Is Sara here yet?”

 

She shakes her head. “Her plane won't get in until later.”

 

“That sucks,” he comments. “Well, you'll see her soon, at least. And probably spend the night with her, because you're fucking gross.”

 

“We're actually sharing a room.” She shrugs. “A girl has _needs_ , Yurotchka.”

 

He pretends to gag, and Mila just laughs at his disgust. Ahead of them, Viktor and Yuuri are huddled together, Viktor leaning his head heavily on his husband's shoulder―the bastard had been too excited to get much sleep on the plane, so he's crashing hard now. _Must suck to be a geezer,_ he thinks, smirking.

 

When at last they all have their luggage, they head to the front and hail a couple of cabs. Yuri takes one with Mila and Yakov, while Viktor and Yuuri take their own. Yakov tells the driver which hotel they're staying at, and Yuri pulls his phone from his pocket.

 

_me: on my way to the hotel now_

 

Otabek must've been waiting for the text, because he answers right away.

 

_beka: Heading down to the lobby now, then._

 

He's restless for the rest of the drive, knee bouncing anxiously. He's excited and terrified to see Otabek again all at once, worried he's going to somehow give himself away―hiding emotions over the phone or through text is easy, but...Otabek knows him well, knows his mannerisms, and it's just...scary, he supposes. He's just going to have to be extra careful.

 

“You excited?” Mila questions, startling him from his thoughts.

 

“Yeah,” he replies, because he it _is_ the truth after all, it's just... “I'm kinda nervous, though,” he finishes, sighing. “Kinda” being an understatement, but, well, he figures Mila can probably guess as much.

 

“He brought his girlfriend, yeah?” she questions. He nods. “Are you...prepared for that?” she asks, voice lowering to something closer to a whisper.

 

Yuri shrugs, a slightly bitter smile on his face. “I have to be, don't I?”

 

Clicking her tongue sympathetically, Mila reaches out to smooth down his hair. “I'm here for you, okay? You're gonna be okay.”

 

He lets out a long breath, nodding. “Thanks, Mila.”

 

When at last they arrive at the hotel, Yuri jumps out the moment the car stops. He can't help it―realizing that Otabek is inside, _waiting for him_ , renders his nervousness easily forgotten. Well, maybe not _forgotten_ , more like...ignored.

 

“Yuri! What about your luggage?” Yakov calls from behind him, but he doesn't bother stopping to answer―he just barely hears Mila telling Yakov she'll get it before he's through the door, head whipping around the busy lobby as he searches for the familiar face of his best friend. He spots him off to the side opposite the desk, leaning against the wall with his hands casually resting in the pockets of his fitted grey sweater, and without another thought, Yuri's running.

 

Otabek's arms are already open for him when Yuri practically plows into him, effectively knocking the breath out of both of them. They both cough and sputter at the impact, but neither lets go―they spend a moment catching their breath, clinging tight to one another, and then Otabek is the first to speak.

 

“...you grew taller again,” he mumbles, voice muffled by Yuri's shoulder.

 

“Did I?” Yuri asks, and...why does he feel like he's about to cry?

 

Otabek hums affirmatively. “Stop that, go back to being shorter than me,” he whispers.

 

Yuri laughs, hugging him tighter. “Like I would even if I could,” he replies, a choked laugh leaving him. He feels stupid, getting choked up, but he can't help it. “...I missed you a lot,” he can't help but say.

 

“I missed you too,” Otabek tells him, squeezing a little harder. “It's been too long. I vote that we never wait this long to see each other again.”

 

“It's only been five months, you loser,” he teases, but something in his chest flutters.

 

“That's Yuri-speak for 'I agree with you but I'm going to tease you instead of agreeing because I think I'll look cooler if I do,'” Otabek retorts, pulling back so he can look at Yuri. And he's _grinning_ , the smug bastard.

 

“You're literally the worst,” Yuri tells him, rolling his eyes. “I take it back, I didn't miss you at all you asshole.”

 

“That has to be the biggest lie I've ever heard.”

 

Yuri shoves him playfully, unable to help the smile pulling at his lips. “Whatever, leave me alone.”

 

“You know I can't,” Otabek shrugs, and the fucker is grinning even _more_ now...

 

“Again, you're _literally_ the worst,” the blond grumbles, crossing his arms.

 

“And you're _awful_ at lying,” Otabek counters, shoving him playfully.

 

“...shut up and hug me again, asshole,” Yuri mutters, pulling him in for another hug. He can't help it―there's just something so comforting about Otabek's hugs, and he's been deprived of them for a while now. It's embarrassing, but he's going to get as many hugs in while they're together as he possibly can.

 

“That I _can_ do,” Otabek tells him, voice softer now as his arms wind around Yuri's torso, giving him a gentle squeeze.

 

“Beka!” a female voice calls, startling them apart, and then Yuri turns to find Alfia running toward them. He knows it's her from the pictures he's seen on Otabek's Instagram profile―same deep brown curls and bright hazel eyes.

 

“I thought you were waiting in your hotel room,” Otabek says as she stops beside them, her arm going around his midsection. Yuri reminds himself to keep his face neutral, but on the inside, it feels like a stab to the heart seeing Otabek accept someone else touching him so easily, or respond to being called Beka by someone else.

 

He realizes very suddenly that this is going to be a lot harder than he'd thought it would be, which is really saying something because he hadn't exactly expected it to be easy in the slightest. He'd just hoped, maybe foolishly, that it might be a little easier to swallow if he actually saw them together, but now that he _is_ seeing it, it only makes him feel worse.

 

“Sorry, I couldn't wait...” she replies, looking a little bit embarrassed. “I just really wanted to meet you!” she continues, turning her attention to Yuri now. “Beka talks about you so much, I got too excited...”

 

Swallowing hard, Yuri scoffs. “That's because he's lame as hell,” he mutters. He feels kind of cold now, even though it's really quite warm inside the building thanks to the multiple heaters scattered around the room to combat the cold Canadian weather outside.

 

“I think it's cute,” she coos, reaching up to pat Otabek's cheek. “You two must be very close, I've never seen Beka so eager to see anyone before! He was pacing like crazy, waiting for you to text him today,” she tells him, laughing.

 

“Of course we're close, we've been best friends for two years,” he says with a roll of his eyes. He knows he's being rude, but he can't really stop himself at this point. “Anyway, sorry to cut this short, but I should go check in before Yakov yells at me.” Pausing, he glances over at Otabek. “I'll see you at practice or something,” he mumbles, offering a halfhearted salute before walking away.

 

Unexpectedly, he finds Mila waiting for him by the desk with his luggage, a pitying look on her face. “That looked awkward as hell,” she comments, handing him his stuff. “You okay?”

 

He lets out a shaky exhale. “I just wanna get to my room,” he answers. He checks in, getting his room number and key, and he and Mila head toward the elevator. A glance around shows that Otabek and Alfia must've already left and gone back to their rooms, and he feels kind of bad for walking away so suddenly, but...he couldn't watch them together anymore, not without some time for it to really sink in. Seeing pictures of them had been bad enough, so...he should've known that seeing it in person would be even worse.

 

They get off on their floor, and Mila starts to head to her own room but is stopped when Yuri grabs her by the sleeve of her sweater. “Will you...come hang out with me?” he asks, hating how vulnerable he feels, but he wants someone to talk to right now.

 

Her eyes soften. “Sure,” she answers. “Can I just drop my luggage off in my room?” she asks, and silently, he nods, watching her as she disappears into her room. Not even a minute later, she re-emerges, linking her arm around his own. “Alright, let's get into your room.”

 

He unlocks the door, pushing it open. He leaves his luggage inside by the door, shuffling in and immediately dropping down to sit on the bed, face falling into his hands.

 

“I was so fucking rude to her, Mila,” he mumbles. “She wasn't even doing anything bad, but I just―I saw her holding onto him, and she kept calling him Beka, and I just―” He bites his lip, trying to hold back tears. “I'm pathetic and awful, Mila.”

 

Mila slowly sits beside him, wrapping an arm around him and letting her head rest on his shoulder. “I know it hurts, and I hate to have to say it, but...you're going to have to suck it up and get used to seeing them together, Yuri. He's your best friend, he probably wants nothing more than for you to get along with his girlfriend, y'know? He's probably really confused about why you left so suddenly just now...”

 

He lays his head on top of hers, taking a shaky breath. “I know, it's just...it sounds stupid as fuck, but seeing it makes me feel like there's something heavy in the pit of my gut, like I swallowed a bunch of rocks or something. I wanna try because I care about him, but...I just...I can't help wishing it was me instead of her.” His voice cracks, and it's taking everything he has to keep the tears at bay. “I'm a selfish bastard. I...I want him all to myself,” he admits, hands clenching into fists. “And that makes me feel awful, because I should be supportive no matter what. I'm an awful friend, letting my stupid fucking feelings get in the way like this.”

 

“Oh, Yuri,” she sighs, laying a hand on the side of his head and gently stroking his soft hair. “I don't think you're awful, you just need more time to accept it. It's perfectly normal to be upset about seeing the person you love with someone else. If you were actively trying to break them up then that would be one thing, but...you're just trying to protect your own heart right now, and that's okay. It's okay to be selfish in that way, Yuri, you need to put yourself first. Just...try to be civil. You don't have to like her, and you don't even have to have a good reason to dislike her. Just try to be nice to her for his sake, okay? I won't lie and tell you it's going to be easy, but you're a strong kid.” She pokes him in the chest, right above his heart. “This thing is bigger than you'll admit, and I know that the last thing you want to do is hurt him. Just...try and find a balance between taking care of yourself and considering his feelings, okay? Because I know you don't want to lose him, Yuri. Just...keep in mind that neither of them are trying to hurt you. No one is at fault here.”

 

“...this 'love' thing is bullshit,” he whispers, turning to bury his face in her hair. He squeezes his eyes shut, but a few tears manage to escape anyway.

 

Mila gently pushes him up before scooting back onto the bed, tugging him with her until they're both laying against the headboard, letting his head rest on her chest and starting to play with his hair again. “It definitely can be, but I promise it isn't all bad,” she says softly. “It may feel awful right now, but...someday, you'll get over him. He may be your first love, but it doesn't mean he's your last―you're only 17, you have so much life ahead of you. Someday, you'll love someone and they'll love you, too. I promise.”

 

“I don't want to love anyone else,” he insists, sniffling. “I don't care if it makes me sound stupid or childish, Mila. He's the only one I ever want to love.”

 

“Yuri...,” she murmurs, sounding sad. He feels a soft kiss against the crown of his head. “If that's how you feel, then that's okay,” she tells him, hugging him a little tighter. “I just hope loving him isn't so hard on you forever, though...because I want you to be happy, y'know? I don't want you to keep suffering like this.”

 

Even though he knows it's probably just going to make things worse for himself, he has to ask. “Mila...if he ever breaks up with her, do you still think...” He swallows hard, taking a deep breath. “Do you still think I'd have a chance with him? You said so before, so I just...wanted to know if you thought anything changed since then.”

 

The hand playing with his hair stops. “Yuri, I...”

 

“Just answer. Please, Mila.”

 

She sighs, brushing his bangs out of his face. “Well...to be honest, this whole situation is confusing. He's been with her for almost 3 months, and he seems happy enough, but...if they do ever break up, then I think I still stand by what I said before. I know I wasn't imagining how he looked at you, Yuri―Sara saw it too. I'm not sure why he'd start dating her if you're the one he really wanted to be with, but...I don't know, Yuri, it's just a feeling I have in my gut. I'd hate to give you false hope, but...I really think I'm right about this.”

 

“Then...that's enough for me, I guess,” he says quietly, letting his eyes close. It only makes more tears fall, but he doesn't care.

 

She just continues to play with his hair, not saying anything else, and he lets the soothing motions lull him to sleep.

 

* * *

 

He wakes up later when he feels Mila get up. Slowly blinking away the drowsiness, he sees her head toward the door and open it. Sara walks in, greeting her girlfriend with a tender kiss, and Yuri groans. Can't he have one moment of peace without seeing any gross lovey shit?

 

“Sleeping Beauty awakens,” Mila teases, running and diving back onto the bed beside him. Sara follows suit, and then the two of them are sandwiching him and kissing all over his face, ignoring his struggles to break free.

 

“What the _fuck_ ―what are you old hags doing?!”

 

They let up for a moment, and Mila grins. “We're trying to cheer you up, obviously.”

 

Sara ruffles his hair. “Mila texted me and filled me in on what happened. I'm sorry you're having such a hard time, kid,” she says, sympathy in her eyes. “But luckily you have us here to be annoying and distract you, huh?”

 

“You're both awful,” he groans, throwing an arm over his face.

 

“I think we're pretty great,” Mila argues, laughing. “Anyway, we aren't going to let you mope―get up, we're going to find somewhere to eat.”

 

Knowing it would be useless to try and fight them, he allows himself to be dragged out of bed. He ties his hair into a messy bun, making sure he looks somewhat put together, and then the three of them head out. Embarrassingly, they each hang on to his arms as they walk―fucking old hags, why are they like this...?

 

They end up picking a little restaurant close to their hotel that seems to be family-run, allowing the hostess to lead them to a booth in the corner by the windows.

 

“This place is cozy,” Sara comments, shedding her coat and sliding into the booth. Mila does the same, sliding in beside her, and Yuri takes a seat on the opposite side.

 

“The food smells great,” Mila adds, grinning.

 

“As long as it's edible, I don't care,” Yuri grumbles. He's starting to realize how hungry he is, and it feels like there's a hole in his stomach.

 

A waiter comes to take their drink orders. Yuri orders milk, while the girls order water, and the waiter smiles and tells them he'll be right back and to take their time deciding on food.

 

As he's flipping through the menu, he hears a familiar voice call his name. “Yura?” Otabek calls, and when Yuri looks up, he finds him in the entrance with Alfia. _Wonderful, just what I need right now,_ he thinks to himself, resisting the urge to bang his head on the table. Repeatedly. Preferably enough to knock himself out. He figures that's probably not the appropriate response to this situation, so he refrains from doing so. Instead, he raises his hand in a halfhearted wave.

 

“...we should probably ask them to sit with us,” Mila says hesitantly, like she knows exactly how much he doesn't wanna hear it.

 

And yeah, he really _doesn't_ wanna hear it, but he knows she's right. “...I guess,” he sighs, taking a deep breath.

 

Sara waves them over, and Yuri stands up to allow them to have his side of the booth. Mila stands as well, forcing him into the middle, and it's a good thing that these booths are big or else they probably wouldn't all fit on the same side.

 

“What a coincidence that we ended up at the same restaurant,” Mila comments, smiling.

 

Otabek nods. “We just picked the closest place to the hotel,” he shrugs.

 

Sara laughs. “We did the same thing.” She turns her gaze to Alfia. “You must be Otabek's girlfriend, hmm?”

 

She nods. “Alfia,” she says by way of introduction.

 

“Sara,” Sara replies. “It's nice to meet you, Alfia.”

 

Mila nods in agreement. “I'm Mila, by the way.”

 

Alfia smiles. “Beka's talked about you two before, it's nice to meet you both as well.”

 

Otabek clears his throat. “I see you two patched things up,” he observes, the smallest of smiles pulling at the corners of his lips. “I'm glad, I was worried when Yura told me what happened.”

 

They reach in front of Yuri to take each other's hands, smiling softly at each other. “Well, I guess we love each other too much to stay apart,” Mila answers, stroking the back of Sara's hand with her thumb. “We owe it all to Yuri, though,” she adds, letting go of Sara's hand to sling an arm around Yuri's neck, much to his annoyance. “He's the reason we got to fix things so quickly.”

 

“You're fucking embarrassing, don't brag about me like some kind of weird soccer mom,” Yuri mutters, brushing her arm off.

 

“He's much kinder than he appears,” Otabek says, almost proudly. It makes Yuri's cheeks go red. “Once he cares about a person, he'll do just about anything for them.”

 

“Enough,” he grumbles, laying his head on the table. _Just let me die,_ he thinks. _Death would be better than this._

 

He hears Alfia laugh. “You seem very sweet, Yuri.”

 

He scoffs, sitting back up. “'Sweet' isn't a word I'd use to describe myself.” Avoiding her eyes, he adds, “Thanks, though, I guess.”

 

Under the table, he feels Mila take his hand and squeeze it gently, offering silent encouragement. He squeezes back, biting his lip. He's thankful to have her here, despite the attitude he's giving her.

 

The waiter comes back with drinks, asking Otabek and Alfia what they'd like. They both order water like Mila and Sara had, and the waiter hands them menus to look at while he gets their drinks.

 

“So you're all skating in the competition?” Alfia asks a moment later.

 

Sara nods. “Mila and I are both in the women's singles division,” she replies.

 

“Is it hard, competing against the person you're dating?”

 

Mila laughs. “It certainly makes things interesting, but...there's no hard feelings between us when one of us scores higher. Mostly, we're just proud of each other,” she explains.

 

“That's so nice,” Alfia says with a soft smile. “I'm glad it doesn't cause problems for the two of you.”

 

“That's just love, I guess,” Sara hums, giving Mila a soft look.

 

“You two are fucking nauseating,” Yuri mutters.

 

Sara just sighs, while Mila sticks her tongue out at him. Meanwhile, Alfia's hand moves to rest on top of Otabek's, a small pout on her lips. “Beka, why can't we be that affectionate?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

 

Coughing uncomfortably, Otabek slowly pulls his hand out from under hers, gives it a gentle pat, and then folds his hands together on his lap. “I don't, uh...” he starts, clearly floundering around in his brain for something to say that'll appease her.

 

Yuri takes a drink of his milk, setting it down with probably more force than necessary. “Beka's a private guy,” he jumps in. “He's uncomfortable doing things like that in front of other people.” He knows he's kind of simplifying things, but he doesn't want to go blabbing about the extents of his friend's anxiety―it's not his place to say.

 

Otabek's entire face floods with relief at Yuri's interjection, and he nods to back his words up. “Yura's right,” he says, swallowing hard. “It's nothing against you, it's just how I am. Sorry...”

 

_Why are you apologizing, idiot?_ he wants to say, but he holds himself back. Instead, he watches Alfia's face soften. “You don't have to apologize,” she tells him, smiling. “That's actually really good to know, I don't ever want to make you uncomfortable.”

 

...dammit. Yuri wants to dislike her, but how can he when she's obviously a good person? It's so frustrating. She genuinely seems to care about Otabek, which he appreciates for his friend's sake, but...it just seems to make him all the more unreachable if he has someone so nice by his side. He knows it's awful of him, but he's been hoping for them to break up ever since Otabek told him about her.

 

But Otabek would be stupid to ever let go of someone like her. She's nice, she's pretty, and she's also outgoing―Otabek needs someone like that, someone who can coax him out of his shell.

 

“You're making a face,” Mila whispers as quietly as she can in his ear. “Are you okay?”

 

He quickly lets his face fall into something more neutral, glad that neither Otabek or Alfia were paying attention. “Fine,” he whispers back just as quietly. It's a lie, but he can't very well elaborate on exactly how not-fine he is when the reason for him being “not-fine” is across the table from him, having a quiet conversation.

 

The waiter brings Otabek and Alfia's drinks, apologizing for the wait, and asks if everyone is ready to place their orders. Yuri had been hungry when he got here, but now, it's like his appetite has vanished. He knows he has to eat something, though, so he orders soup―he figures it should be good enough.

 

As everyone else places their orders, Yuri thinks about nothing other than getting back to his hotel room so he can wallow alone in peace.

 

* * *

 

They walk back to the hotel together as a group, and Yuri had thought that being a third wheel was bad enough, but being a fifth-wheel? Much worse.

 

Otabek and Alfia walk in the front, walking closely enough that their shoulders brush. Then there's Sara and Mila, holding each others' hands and letting them swing between them as they walk, talking quietly to each other and occasionally bumping their noses together. Yuri wraps his arms around himself as he walks behind them, trying to ignore how much it all makes his heart ache. He may say that all this lovey shit is gross, but...maybe he wants to be able to be gross like that with someone. Well, not just any “someone,” but...well, the “someone” he wants is unavailable, so that's very much off the table. He just...wants to be able to experience these things for himself, he supposes, as gross as it is.

 

When they reach the elevator, Mila hits the button for their floor. Alfia hits the button for hers next―it's the floor below their own, so she ends up getting off first. Before she leaves, however, she kisses Otabek's cheek. “I'll see you in the morning,” she tells him, and then she's gone.

 

Otabek goes impossibly red, watching the doors close, and Yuri's chest tightens considerably. He needs to get to his room, like, _immediately_.

 

The elevator stops on their floor next, and the four of them get out. Sara and Mila pause, looking at Yuri. “Wanna come hang out with us?” Mila asks.

 

Yuri shakes his head. He doesn't want to intrude on the little bit of time they have together, despite how much he wants company―he's not _that_ much of a selfish asshole. “You two just...enjoy having some time together,” he tells them.

 

Mila's brow creases, mouth opening like she might protest, but Sara cups her face, turning it so that she can look her in the eyes. “C'mon, _dolcezza_ ,” she says softly.

 

Unable to resist, Mila just nods. “Alright. Yuri, text me if you need me for anything, yeah?”

 

Yuri rolls his eyes. “Yes, whatever, just go be gross with your girlfriend you old hag.”

 

Mila still looks worried, but Sara quietly mouths “thank you” in Yuri's direction before gently pulling her girlfriend toward their room.

 

Yuri expects Otabek to head to his own room as well, but he hovers, shifting his weight nervously. “Hey, Yura?” he questions.

 

Yuri raises an eyebrow, feeling way too drained to deal with much of anything but also unwilling to be rude to his best friend after being apart for so long. “What is it?”

 

“I just...I know it's late and we both traveled a lot today so we should probably sleep, but...can we watch a movie or something? We haven't gotten to hang out in a while, so...”

 

Even though he just wants to be alone, Yuri feels his face soften as he gives in, never really having been able to deny Otabek anything. “...yeah, okay, c'mon,” he replies, heading toward his room and motioning for Otabek to follow. He unlocks his door, allowing Otabek to pass before heading inside himself, letting the door fall shut behind him. “Pick something while I go wash my face,” he says, pointing toward the remote before ducking into the bathroom, letting his back hit the door with a deep sigh. He'd wanted to just go to sleep, but...he couldn't say no to Otabek, not when he'd been missing him so much. Besides, he's sure he won't get a whole lot of time to spend with him without his girlfriend around, so he supposes he'll have to take what he can get no matter how shitty he feels.

 

Pulling his hair tie out, Yuri shakes his long hair out and sighs at the crinkles from his messy bun. Scooping it all up, he quickly braids it back, sliding a headband on to keep it out of his face while he washes it. The warm cloth feels nice against his skin, and he leaves it pressed against his face for a moment before he sets it on the counter. He hadn't brought his bag of toiletries in here yet, so he's going to have to put his moisturizer on out there...

 

Taking a deep breath, he emerges from the bathroom. He finds Otabek casually sprawled on his bed, searching through the movie channel, and his heart clenches for some reason―maybe it's just the way that he so easily makes himself a part of Yuri's space or something. He's comfortable with Yuri in a way that he isn't with anyone else, Yuri knows, and he takes a selfish delight in that. _I bet he'd never be this comfortable in Alfia's space,_ he thinks, knowing it's petty but not caring.

 

Digging through his suitcase, he pulls out his bag of toiletries and paws through it until his hand closes around his moisturizer. He heads to the nearest mirror so he can put some on, gently rubbing it into his skin, and he hears Otabek snort.

 

“What?” he asks, not looking away from himself as he rubs it all in.

 

“Nothing,” Otabek answers. “I just...missed you.”

 

Slowly, Yuri turns his head toward him, praying that he isn't going to blush. “You're weird,” he mutters, shaking his head and twisting the cap back onto his moisturizer before jumping onto the bed beside Otabek, settling in beside him. “Find anything yet?” he questions.

 

“Not really,” Otabek sighs. “I don't really care about watching a movie to be honest, lets just pick a random channel. I just wanted to hang out, anyway.”

 

“Oh, uh...that's fine, then,” Yuri answers, completely caught off guard. Months ago, he would've thought nothing of Otabek saying something like that, but now that he's aware of himself and how he feels about his best friend...it's like he tries to find some special meaning in every little thing, even though nothing has really changed.

 

It's pathetic how a few simple, innocent words can make his heart race like this.

 

Otabek picks a random channel, and it ends up being an old-looking American sitcom. Yuri doesn't really care, he knows he probably isn't going to pay attention to it anyway.

 

“I'm really happy that Sara and Mila fixed things,” Otabek says suddenly. “It sounded like the situation was a mess, but I'm glad they moved past it. I can't imagine either of them with anyone else.”

 

Yuri hums, settling against the headboard. Otabek follows suit, moving close enough to bump their shoulders, and Yuri reminds himself to stay calm. “It _was_ a mess. When Mila came into my room that night...fuck, it was scary―she was crying so hard, and I had no idea how to help her. But...I wanted to try, because she's seen me cry a lot lately and helped every time it happened, so...I wanted to be there for her, too.”

 

Otabek tilts his head. “You've been crying lately?” His brow creases. “Are you alright? Did something happen?”

 

“Ah, no, it's just...stress,” he lies, silently cursing. He hadn't really thought that one through. “I'm alright, the pressure is just...intense.”

 

Otabek's lips press together. “Yura...I know things have been busy lately, but...you know you can always talk to me if you're having a hard time, right? I...don't like the thought of you crying, especially not if it's a common occurrence.”

 

“I swear it's not a big deal,” he tells him, fiddling with the hem of his sweater. “Mila's been looking out for me, anyway. And honestly, I'd hate to bother you over something so little.”

 

He's thoroughly surprised when Otabek pulls him in for a sudden hug, large hand cupping the back of Yuri's head and pressing it into his chest. “Don't say that,” he says softly, and Yuri can hear the way his voice rumbles through his chest. “Don't downplay your emotions, Yura. You've always looked out for me in situations where I'm anxious or uncomfortable, but never given me the chance to do the same for you. Please don't think you'd be bothering me by opening up, because if I can somehow lighten whatever burden you're carrying, then I want to. Okay?”

 

Yuri feels himself suck in a shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut when he feels them prick with tears. _No,_ he is _not_ going to cry, not right now.

 

The thing is, he _does_ want to let him in. He wants to be able to share everything with his best friend, but how is he supposed to do that when all of his recent emotional turmoil is linked to said best friend? It's an impossibly situation.

 

“Yura,” Otabek starts again, gently ruffling his hair where his hand rests on top of it. “I'm always ready to listen. If you don't want to talk about it right now, then that's okay, but...I've noticed a distance these past few months, and...it scares me. I wish I knew what was going on in that head of yours. But I respect your privacy, so I won't pester you. We don't have to talk about it until you want to, and if you never want to, then that's okay. The option is there nonetheless.”

 

The words leave his mouth before he can really even think about it. “No, no, I...I want to. I'm just worried you'll think it's stupid,” he answers, swallowing hard.

 

“I promise I wouldn't ever think that anything that troubles you is stupid, Yura.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Yuri finally nods, exhaling it slowly. He thinks he might have a way of telling him without actually _telling_ him... “Okay, well...I met this person, this _amazing_ person, right? You know I have a hard time connecting to people, but...with this person, it was so easy, almost like they'd always been there. Without really meaning to, I, um...I kinda...fell in love. Damn, that's really embarrassing to say,” he says with a shaky exhale, biting his lip. “Anyway, I...I really want to tell this person how I feel, but I really don't think I have a chance. I don't think they're into me the way I'm into them, like...I'm pretty sure they just see me as a friend, and...it's really been tearing me apart, as stupid as it is. I always thought I was above this kind of shit, so...I wasn't really prepared to deal with it when it hit me. So I guess I've just been a mess because of it.” He lets out a forced, humorless laugh. “It's so stupid that I didn't even wanna bother you with it, but...well, now you know.”

 

“...don't count yourself out,” Otabek tells him after a long silence, voice gentle but firm. “Yura, you're an amazing person, anyone would be lucky to have your love. I don't know why you think that this person doesn't feel the same, but...the only way to know for sure is to talk to them about it, which I know sounds scary, but...trust me, you'll feel much better if you know. I've been in that situation before, but I never told them, and I regret that decision every day because...it's just too late now. Don't make the same mistake I made, Yura,” he says softly, and Yuri hates the pain he sees in his eyes. “I mean, I have Alfia now and I'm happy, but...I think part of me will always wonder about what could've been. I don't want you to have to wonder that, too.”

 

“I just...I feel stupid for being so affected by this. Like, there are definitely worse things than being in love with someone you know you don't have a chance with, yet...here I am, moping like an idiot. Rationally I know I'm being stupid and whiny, but I can't help it,” he explains, hating the fact that he's basically calling himself out right now. _Who needs Mila when I can just fucking roast myself,_ he thinks, a little miserably. “They can do so much better than me, I know it. In fact...I'm pretty sure they already _are_. So I just...don't think I'll ever say anything.”

 

“Hey, stop that,” Otabek scolds, flicking his forehead. “Don't say that, Yura. Do you not realize what a catch you are?” he asks. He clearly takes Yuri's silence as a “no,” because he continues, gently pushing Yuri up so that he can look into his eyes. “Yuri Plisetsky, I want you to listen to me. You're incredible, okay? You have this insane focus and drive, and...you have the biggest heart out of everyone I know, even though you try to hide it because you think it's embarrassing to care and have feelings. You go into everything with your whole heart, so...stop thinking that you aren't good enough for this person, because I know without a doubt that you are. Because I know you, Yuri. You may doubt yourself more than you'll ever let on, but...you have no reason to. You're wonderful the way you are, and if this person doesn't see that...well, that's their loss, isn't it?” He takes a deep breath, raking a hand though his hair. “Yura...there's nothing wrong with wanting something,” he murmurs. “You wouldn't give up so easily on a gold medal, would you?” Yuri shakes his head, and Otabek smiles a little crookedly. “Then treat this person like they're a gold medal and _try_ , Yuri. If you tell them how you feel and they _tell_ you that they don't feel the same, then that's one thing. But giving up without even trying...that's not something the Yuri _I_ know would do. The Yuri I know tries until the very end.”

 

“I...thanks, Beka,” he finally says a moment later, sinking forward to hug him again, mostly so that he won't see the tears pricking at his eyes. If only he knew that _he's_ the one Yuri is talking about... “Most people would've probably just told me to fuck off and stop whining, but...you listened without judging, so...thank you. Really. I can't promise I'll tell this person how I feel, but...I appreciate the advice nonetheless,” he finishes.

 

 

He feels Otabek chuckle. “Wow, no Yuri-speak to interpret this time? You really _must_ be thankful.”

 

Yuri pulls out of his embrace, pouting, and playfully shoves him. “Fuck off, Beka.”

 

Otabek smiles―it's Yuri's favorite smile, the one that makes him look all soft and open. “Ah, a classic; that one is Yuri-speak for 'I _am_ thankful but you just ruined the moment so I'm going to act like I'm annoyed,' right?”

 

“Why am I friends with you?” Yuri sighs, shaking his head, but he can't help but smile anyway. When they're like this, he can almost forget everything else―this feels normal, and it puts his heart at ease.

 

“Because no one else was ballsy enough to ask the way I did,” Otabek shrugs, and he's probably right. “I say that, but I was actually terrified the whole time, you know.”

 

Yuri raises an eyebrow. “Really? You seemed pretty calm to me.”

 

“Probably because I spent the whole week leading up to the final rehearsing what I was going to say in the mirror, along with imagining possible outcomes,” Otabek shrugs. “It went a lot better in reality than I expected it to, honestly.”

 

Yuri snorts. “What exactly were you expecting?” he asks, curious.

 

“I was expecting you to laugh in my face and walk away,” Otabek admits. “I mean, you seemed pretty scary back then even though you were still practically a kid. Hell, you were scary even when you _were_ a kid. I know you're not scary at all now, but...back then, you were really intimidating.”

 

“Hey! I'm plenty scary if I wanna be,” Yuri mutters.

 

“I know you too well to find you scary now,” Otabek tells him.

 

Yuri huffs, crossing his arms. “Why is life so unfair?”

 

Otabek laughs. “Don't be so dramatic. It wouldn't be a very good friendship if I was scared of you, would it?” he asks.

 

Yuri purses his lips, considering it. “...I guess you have a point,” he acquiesces, sighing. “Damn, though, I'd better not be losing my touch.”

 

“Wouldn't that be a shame,” Otabek teases.

 

Yuri rolls his eyes, flicking Otabek's ear. “I didn't ask for your opinion,” he sniffs.

 

Otabek shrugs. “I'm giving it anyway.”

 

The younger teen sighs. “You're such a shithead sometimes, you know that? People think you're all quiet and aloof and shit, which is half true, but as soon as you're comfortable with someone? You're a fuckin' smartass.”

 

Otabek laughs a little in response, playfully bumping their shoulders together. “I guess you bring it out in me,” he answers.

 

“Lucky me,” Yuri grumbles, but he does feel a little lucky to know an Otabek that no one else knows. This Otabek, the one who openly laughs and smiles that soft smile and teases him relentlessly, is completely his own.

 

And maybe that can be enough for him, he thinks.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me @ myself: why can't u give this kid a break
> 
> i promise all the emotional suffering will be worth it in the end yall!! one day they'll both stop being dumb and oblivious to each other's feelings, i swear
> 
> yall probably know the drill by now, but as always, feel free to let me know what u thought here in the comments section or on [tumblr](http://nikiforohv.tumblr.com) via ask or dm!! also feel free to pester me to get the next chapter up sooner bc im actually the worst efhjvbfkjebhksjh
> 
> until next time!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one day i'll get better at regularly updating fics, but that day is not today :')
> 
> sorry i suck yall, i swear im doin my best!! yall have been so patient tho so thank you so much for sticking with me, you guys rock <3
> 
> also, sorry if i didn't reply to your comment, but i promise i read it and it made me smile like i swear you guys leave the nicest comments i cry
> 
> anyway i wont keep yall any longer, enjoy the chapter!!

The rest of the time until the day of the short program passes in a blur of practicing and brief hangouts with Otabek. Yuri feels a calm focus he hasn't felt in months―being reunited with Otabek seems to have eased his troubled heart. Sometime in the past few days, it had really sunk in that Otabek is happy with Alfia, and...seeing that has allowed Yuri's broken heart to finally start to heal. Acceptance is a powerful thing, he thinks―his heart doesn't hurt so badly when he sees them together now, and he's even started trying to be decent to Alfia (he'd been unfair in his rudeness toward her, anyway). He's by no means over his feelings for his best friend, but...it's getting a little easier to swallow.

 

Yuri waits in the sidelines for his turn to skate, stretching and running through the routine in his head. He's going right after Otabek, who is just skating onto the ice now―he looks strong, solid, and ready to take on the world. Yuri feels a rush of pride as he looks at his best friend, cupping his hands around his mouth to yell “Davai!” as is their custom. Otabek hears him and offers the smallest of smiles before composing his face once more as he stops in the center of the ice, assuming his starting pose.

 

There's something absolutely electric about the way Otabek skates―it's like he's fighting a one-man war or something like that, and he's _winning_. He commands the attention of everyone in the stadium with the sturdy, reliable way he skates. Yuri knows he should be thinking about his own routine, but all he can do is watch in awe as Otabek lands every one of his jumps, including one he's never seen his best friend do in person―a _quadruple lutz_. Yuri himself has been trying to learn it, but it's still too shaky, too unreliable. But Otabek does it like it's something he's done his whole life, and it's _incredible_.

 

“Wow,” Viktor hums from beside him. “I know I saw it already in France, but that really is one impressive jump...”

 

“Yeah,” Yuri breathes, blinking.

 

“He's really serious this year,” Viktor continues, grinning. “We'll have to be careful, won't we? Feels like he'll win _easily_ if we screw up, doesn't it?”

 

Yuri just nods, still a little speechless.

 

Otabek's routine ends, and Yuri watches as his chest heaves as he holds his final pose. Yuri hopes he's proud of himself―the performance had been absolutely flawless, and Yuri knows it's going to easily put him ahead of the others who've already skated.

 

Yuri feels Yakov's large hand clap against his back. “Don't be intimidated,” he says gruffly, and both of their eyes follow Otabek as he skates over to the kiss and cry. “Your program is strong, Yuri―very solid. As long as you keep your head, you can still surpass him.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Yuri nods. He slips his team jacket off, handing it to Yakov, and does a final stretch of his arms. Otabek's score is announced―115.78, exactly around where Yuri had expected it to be.

 

When his name is called, he skates out onto the ice. He empties his mind of everything but what he's going to skate, getting into position, and then the music starts.

 

* * *

 

“That was a nasty fall,” Mila comments as she presses an ice pack to Yuri's shoulder, ignoring the way he winces and swears when she applies just a little too much pressure.

 

“I'll be fine,” Yuri grits out through his teeth, gripping the ice pack with his own hand so that Mila can let go.

 

“As long as you don't strain it any more, then yeah,” Mila agrees, shrugging. “Just be careful, don't move it more than you have to. Otherwise you're not going to be able to catch up to the others,” she reminds him.

 

He rolls his eyes. “I _know_ that already, but thanks for the shitty reminder.”

 

She sighs. “Sorry, I just want to make sure you take care of yourself. You only have two days until the free skate, Yuri.”

 

“Like I said, I'll be fine,” he mutters, but...part of him is worried.

 

He'd tried to do a quad loop, the newest quad in his arsenal, after a difficult entry with both arms raised, and...he just hadn't been ready for it. He'd slammed down into the sideboard, his shoulder taking the hit because of the way he'd twisted. He'd hit his hip off the ice, too, but it'd be a little bruised at the worst―his shoulder, on the other hand...was a little bit worse.

 

He'd gotten too hungry, too eager to overtake Otabek, and was paying the price now. Yeah, he'd gotten right back up and finished his routine normally, but the second he stepped off the ice, the pain had hit. He's lucky he hadn't torn anything and that it was just a bruised bone and a pulled muscle, but...still, this is a problem. He needs to be at his best for the free skate, so this is less than ideal.

 

He takes it as easy as he can at practice after that, trying not to move his arm unnecessarily, but it's hard. He can't practice his jumps nearly as much as he wants to, which is frustrating because he feels like it puts him at a disadvantage. Everyone else is in top shape, after all.

 

More often than not, he feels Otabek's worried gaze on him whenever they're at practice. He hates knowing that he's distracting him, because he wants Otabek to focus on himself instead―he's in _first place_ going into the free skate, dammit, he has a really good chance of winning gold this year and Yuri will _never_ forgive himself if he becomes the reason that Otabek loses that chance. Yuri knows it's going to take a miracle to beat him at this point, since he himself is in _fifth_. Hell, it'll be a miracle if he even makes it onto the podium as things stand now, but he's going to try his damnedest to make it happen. But he doesn't want it to happen because Otabek got so worried about him that he messed up his own chance.

 

“Beka, I get that you're concerned, but you need to focus on yourself,” he says as they're sitting together after practice the day before the free skate, unlacing their skates. Annoyingly, Yuri's shoulder twinges as he does so, drawing a quiet curse from him. “I refuse to be a distraction to you, so...don't waste time worrying about me when you should be putting all of your thoughts into yourself,” he finishes lamely, resisting the urge to rub at his shoulder. Damn, he's going to have to ice it again.

 

Otabek sighs beside him, straightening up as he slips his feet into his shoes. “You're my best friend and you're hurt, do you really expect me to not worry about you?” he asks, tone dubious.

 

Yuri lets out a sigh of his own, raking a hand through his hair. “I just...Beka, you're in first place right now. You can win this thing so easily. I don't wanna be the reason you mess up,” he explains, wrapping his arms around himself and swearing again when it sends a bolt of pain through his shoulder. “You can't worry about me right now, not until after you skate. It's my own damn fault I got hurt, I tried to do something I wasn't ready for and it bit me in the ass. I'll live. I can...I can redeem myself at Worlds,” he continues, swallowing back bitter tears. He definitely isn't going to kid himself―he knows he doesn't have a very good chance of placing as things stand. He's still going to try his best, obviously, but he knows he can't risk hurting himself more if he wants to be in good shape for Worlds, so...it's tough.

 

“Yura...” Otabek starts, voice soft. “Don't beat yourself up over this, okay? Falls happen to all of us, it's inevitable. I just...I just want you to be okay, that's all I'm worried about. Because I know how you are, I know you're angry with yourself, and I know that you sometimes push yourself too far. _That's_ what worries me the most. Your shoulder will heal just fine as long as you don't push it, so just...promise me you won't do anything crazy, okay?”

 

“I...yeah, I promise,” Yuri tells him, swallowing hard at the intensity he sees in those dark eyes. “So...promise me that you aren't going to distract yourself with worrying over me, okay? Do me a favor and win that gold,” he continues, forcing a smile and nudging him.

 

“I'll do my best,” Otabek promises. “For me _and_ for you, yeah?” He holds out a hand, and Yuri bites his lip.

 

Clasping his friend's hand, they both squeeze lightly. “Yeah,” he agrees, feeling a little overwhelmed. Otabek wants to win it not just for himself, but...for him, too?

 

He thinks he understands now how Viktor must've felt, back when Yuuri had declared he'd win gold for the both of them. Of course, Otabek isn't declaring it out of the same kind of love, and he isn't saying it on national television, but...it feels special nonetheless, like a secret promise between them. Maybe he's finding too much meaning in this, maybe Otabek hadn't meant it so seriously, but...either way, Yuri likes the warmth that floods through his system, and...it's comforting, so Yuri thinks he's just going to interpret it however he wants.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Yuri skates second, right after Phichit. It's probably the sloppiest-looking routine he's ever skated, but he does his best and somehow manages to just barely hold his spot above the Thai skater, even though he'd refrained from attempting any jumps with raised arms. The spins had killed his shoulder more than enough―he's going to be feeling this for the next little while, he's sure.

 

Ice pack in hand, he heads up to the stands to watch the rest. Yuuri is the next one up, and he's eager to watch―he hopes he'll do well enough to overtake JJ, because even though the Canadian skater's definitely eased up on him over the years, Yuri still can't stand him, and that's probably something that will never change.

 

He finds Mila and Sara sitting with Alfia of all people, and he swallows hard as he makes his way over to them and sits in the only open seat, which is right beside Alfia.

 

“Hi, Yuri!” she greets when he sits, hazel eyes bright.

 

“Yo,” he greets back, nodding his head. The music for Yuuri's program starts, and he directs his attention to the ice so he can watch.

 

“He really is stunning to watch sometimes,” Mila murmurs after a moment. “I never get tired of it.”

 

Yuri hums in agreement. “Definitely a far cry from the loser he was three years ago,” he comments.

 

“Think he'll beat JJ?” Sara asks.

 

“He'd better, the last thing I want is to see that smug asshole on the podium again,” Yuri mutters. “But honestly? This program is really fuckin' solid, I'd be surprised if he _didn't_ beat JJ. As long as he keeps his head, he's gonna be fine.”

 

“I think he'd have a heart attack if he heard you say that,” Mila laughs. “You aren't exactly free with compliments when it comes to him.”

 

“You make me sound like such an asshole,” Yuri groans. “I'm not _that_ mean to him anymore.”

 

Beside him, Alfia lets out a quiet laugh. “Beka told me once that you're a softie on the inside, and...I can see it,” she tells him. “You act rough, but you care. It's kind of sweet, maybe even a little cute.”

 

Mila throws her head back and laughs. “Oh, dear, you went and called him the 'c' word,” she chortles, gently patting Alfia's shoulder.

 

Alfia raises an eyebrow. “Should I not have?”

 

Yuri coughs, pressing his ice pack more firmly to his shoulder. “For the record...I'm _not_ cute or sweet. But...whatever, it's fine, I guess,” he mumbles, looking away.

 

He hears her let out another soft laugh. “I'm sorry, but I think you are, from what I've seen at least, and from what Beka's told me. I'm really stubborn you know, you can't make me change my mind so you might as well just accept it,” she informs him, and he looks back over at her in time to see her grinning.

 

“...I guess I can't control your opinion,” he finally says, coughing awkwardly once more. “It's wrong, but...oh well I guess.” Down on the ice, Yuuri is steadily skating through the second half, and he hasn't messed up―Yuri's sure he's going to make the podium with such a flawless performance, it'd be a crime if he didn't at this point.

 

When he finishes, he skates to the kiss and cry, where Viktor awaits. Viktor immediately takes his hand, kissing his knuckles, and Yuri can practically feel the entire audience swoon at the sight. People ate their love story right up, and it's made them favorites in the figure skating world, beloved by fans from all over. Yuri thinks it's gross as hell, but whatever, it's not like his opinion matters.

 

While it's not record-breaking, Yuuri's score is phenomenal nonetheless―it catapults him into first place, and Yuri's not so sure he'll stay there, but he's sure that Yuuri's at least going to earn a medal today.

 

It's time for the second group to take the ice after Yuuri's performance. JJ is up first, since he'd finished the short program in third. Yuri doesn't care enough to watch his performance, so he fiddles with his phone instead. Alfia watches JJ quietly by his side, and he kind of feels like he should maybe try to talk to her since Sara and Mila are in their own little world but he doesn't really know what to say. He still doesn't really know how to act around her, and part of him wonders if he ever manage to figure it out. He likes her as a person and accepts that she's good for Otabek and that she genuinely cares about him, but he can't completely banish the jealousy he feels toward her. It's stupid and childish, but he can't help it.

 

“Beka really doesn't like this guy,” she comments, breaking him from his thoughts. “He hasn't said why, but I've heard he's a real piece of work.”

 

“That would be an understatement,” Yuri mutters. “He's obnoxious as fuck. I'll admit that he's a good skater, but I can't stand being around him. He doesn't really have too many friends in the figure skating world because he doesn't know how to act like a normal person apparently.”

 

“That's...kind of sad,” she says, eyebrows knitting together. “I wonder if that makes him feel lonely? I mean, from what I've seen, most professional figure skaters are on pretty friendly terms, so...he must feel really left out.”

 

Yuri shrugs. “I don't feel any pity, he did it to himself. If he dug his head out of his ass for five minutes, maybe people would want to be around him, but I don't see that happening anytime soon.”

 

Alfia hums thoughtfully. “Well, I can't really have a valid opinion since I'm not involved, so I'll just have to take your word for it,” she tells him, offering a smile.

 

“I, uh...good,” he replies awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. He's starting to get a headache from how severely his hair is pulled back, but he knows it's going to be a mess when he lets it down so he's forcing himself to wait until he gets back to his room.

 

JJ finishes his program, and Yuri lets out a relieved sigh when his score is lower than Yuuri's. Infuriatingly, it's higher than his own, but he'd known it was going to happen since he'd injured himself. Whatever, he still has Worlds to beat the smug bastard.

 

Viktor is the next on the ice, looking as regal and comfortable there as ever. At this point, Yuri is sure he's never going to retire, just because he has such a genuine love for the ice skating world. He thrives during competition season, it's clear to see.

 

As annoying as Yuri finds him sometimes, Viktor's skating still never fails to take his breath away. Every time he watches him, it's almost like he's a kid again, watching from the sidelines at practice with eyes full of wonder. He makes everything look so easy, so effortless, whether it's jumps or spins or even just his step sequences―every move he makes is utterly entrancing. He's always moved with an almost otherworldly control over every part of his body, which is why it's such a shock when he takes off for a quad salchow and fucks up his landing, going down hard as his foot twists. There's an audible gasp from the whole stadium, but Viktor gets up as if nothing had happened, continuing the routine without skipping a beat. Yuri's sure this is the first time he's ever seen him fall in a competition, and...it shakes him up a little, because Viktor's skating had always seemed so reliable, so unshakable. Falling in competition was something he just didn't do, not since he was a teen at least.

 

“That looked so painful,” Sara comments, sucking in a breath.

 

“I hope he's alright,” Mila murmurs, and out of the corner of his eye, Yuri can see that her hands are covering her mouth.

 

“He got right up, doesn't that mean he's probably okay?” Alfia asks, looking back and forth between each of them.

 

“...not exactly,” Sara answers, voice soft. “You see, when we hurt ourselves during a performance...our first instinct is to ignore it and keep going, even if it hurts. That's probably what Viktor's doing, and...honestly, he isn't skating the same right now.”

 

She's right―he isn't moving like usual, he almost seems to be favoring one foot over the other. It's nearly undetectable, but Yuri's seen him skate for so long that it's obvious to him.

 

“Oh no,” Alfia gasps. “I hope that it's not too serious, at least...”

 

“Fucking geezer's getting to old to skate,” Yuri whispers, biting his lip. He watches him finish the rest of his routine like normal, landing his remaining jumps and doing it well, but the second the music stops, he falls to the ice, hands moving to clutch his foot. He sees Yuuri leap over the sideboards, getting to him even before the medic and cradling his head, looking panicked. Viktor's face is pinched up in pain, but still, he smiles and reaches for his husband's face, saying something to him that Yuri obviously can't hear from so far away, but knowing him he's probably telling Yuuri not to worry, that he's fine.

 

Yuuri helps him up after a few seconds, slinging his arm over his shoulder and slowly pulling him toward the exit, where medics and Yakov await. The commentator announces that the judges have Viktor's score, and all eyes go to the screen as it's displayed. Even with the fall, he manages to move into first place, which is such a Viktor thing to do that Yuri isn't even surprised. Even injured, the man is a legend after all―the fall had been the only flaw in his program, and he'd gotten enough rotations in so the deduction had been small.

 

He's ushered away then, Yuuri practically glued to his side, and Otabek finally takes the ice. Even though he's still shaken by what had just happened to Viktor, Yuri shakes the thoughts from his head and cups his hands over his mouth to yell “Beka! Davai!” Luckily he hears him, offering a smile and a thumbs up, and then he takes his position.

 

The way he skates makes Yuri breathless. This routine isn't set to a sweeping, powerful orchestral piece as usual―it's softer, and it's the most emotional program Yuri's ever seen from Otabek. Instead of dominating the ice with his strong movements, it's like he's working in tandem with it now, treating it carefully and creating something absolutely stunning. Even though Yuri had watched him perform it twice on tv already, it seems like he's taken it a notch higher since then; every movement is backed by something deeper from within, Yuri can feel it. This is an Otabek that the skating world had never seen before this season, but one that Yuri knows very well―it's the softer side he hides from everyone save the few people he's comfortable with. Yuri feels a strange rush of pride, seeing him open up and bare his soul in this way, just because he's always been so reserved and shy in the past. It's like he's watching a flower bloom, which is a simile he never thought would apply to his best friend.

 

He doesn't realize how emotional he is until Otabek takes his final pose, eyes finding Yuri's own in the audience, and a single tear slips down Yuri's cheek. He hastily wipes it, extending a fist toward Otabek. Otabek mirrors him, chest heaving, and then he starts to bow, and the audience throws their gifts.

 

“That was wonderful,” Alfia says dreamily, leaning her chin on her palm.

 

“Yeah,” Yuri breathes, eyes not leaving Otabek as he skates toward the kiss and cry, where his coach awaits. He watches as he sits, popping the guards on his skates, and talks to his coach as he waits for his score. His coach looks happy with him, and how could he not be? Otabek just gave one of the best performances of his life. Simply describing it as “wonderful” doesn't really feel like enough.

 

The score is announced, and his combined score is incredible, but just barely falls short of Viktor's. It'll earn him the silver at least, but Yuri still feels disappointment―not _at_ Otabek, but rather _for_ him. He'd given two amazing performances, but...Viktor had too, and that's that he supposes. He hopes that Otabek is at least proud of what he'd accomplished.

 

People start to file out to stretch their legs and such, since the awards ceremony is being held off until after Viktor is done being examined by the medics. Yuri, Alfia, Mila and Sara head down to find Otabek, wanting to congratulate him―they find him near the kiss and cry, and Yuri doesn't think before running toward him.

 

Otabek spots him, already speaking before Yuri can reach him. “I'm sorry, I said I'd get gold for both of us but I―” But he stops, breath knocked out of him because Yuri's tackled him, arms wrapping around him tightly. He winces when the action sends fiery pain through his shoulder, but he doesn't let go―he's proud of his best friend, dammit, and he's going to make sure he knows it.

 

“Don't you dare apologize,” Yuri whispers. “Beka, you were fucking incredible out there, I'm so proud of you...”

 

Otabek relaxes into him then, hugging him back for a moment before gently pushing Yuri away and taking the ice pack he's clutching in his hand so he can press it to Yuri's shoulder, the move so tender that Yuri's breath catches in his throat. “Careful, don't hurt yourself more,” he scolds, but his tone is gentle, and he can't seem to help the small smile on his face.

 

_You're worth the pain,_ Yuri thinks, but obviously doesn't say it. Instead, he just reaches up to hold the ice pack so Otabek doesn't have to, brushing their fingers together in the process, and says “Yes, _mom_.” Otabek slowly lets his hand fall, but then he's hugging Yuri again, more gently this time. Yuri bites his lip and wraps his good arm around him, letting his head fall to rest on Otabek's shoulder.

 

And then he remembers that there's other people around, Otabek's girlfriend included, and he slowly extracts himself from the embrace, feeling a little embarrassed. Otabek seems to realize then that his girlfriend is there, waiting patiently off to the side while they have their moment together, and he scratches the back of his head and moves toward her, leaving Yuri behind.

 

Sara and Mila move to stand on either side of Yuri, Mila wrapping an arm around his middle and leaning her head on his shoulder while Sara just pats his back, and they all watch Alfia reach up to rearrange Otabek's hair before kissing his cheek and hugging him.

 

“You okay, kid?” Sara asks softly, seeing the way his face has gone blank.

 

“I don't know,” he replies, biting his lip. “But I'm going to have to be, yeah?” Otabek isn't his. _Otabek isn't his_. He says it over and over in his head, like a mantra, until it sinks in. Otabek will never be his to kiss on the cheek or the lips or to tenderly fiddle with his hair after a performance. To hug, yes, but anything more is off limits.

 

Instead of answering, Mila just hugs him tighter, Sara joining in, and Yuri does his best not to cry. It's pointless to cry―crying will change nothing. Otabek is happy, and that's what's important here. He's going to do his best to be happy for him, even if doing so rips his own heart out in the process.

 

* * *

 

When Viktor returns for the medal ceremony, he's walking on crutches because his foot is in a cast. Yuri finds Yakov to ask the details, and apparently the idiot had managed to fracture his ankle bone because he'd landed so badly and made it even _worse_ because he'd continued to skate on it. Yuri has to give him props for winning despite _breaking his fucking ankle_ mid-performance, honestly―who else but Viktor could possibly pull that off?

 

He's helped onto the podium by Yuuri, who stands on one side of him while Otabek takes the other. Their medals are placed around their necks, they pose for pictures, and that's that. The exhibition and banquet will take place in a couple days, since the women's free skate will take place the following day, although it'll just be Otabek and Yuuri performing in the exhibition from the men's division since Viktor is out of commission for now.

 

They all go out for dinner to celebrate after the ceremony, minus Sara and Mila since they stay back to practice, sending their congratulations instead. Yuri ends up wedged between Otabek and Viktor at a table that's honestly too small for all of them, but Viktor had insisted they all sit together.

 

Halfway through their meal, Viktor clears his throat and asks for everyone's attention. “There's something I want to say,” he begins, folding his hands in his lap. Beside him, Yuuri bites his lip, reaching over to lay a hand over his, as if he's offering support. “I plan on making a formal announcement, but I want you all to be the first to know that...I'm officially retiring. I'm going to be thirty years old in a few days, and...I just think it's time. If I hadn't injured myself, I would've waited until after Worlds, but I suppose this is how things were meant to happen,” he continues with an airy laugh. “I've had a good career, and I have no regrets after winning gold one last time today.”

 

Everyone at the table seems to have been shocked into silence, other than Yuuri who'd clearly already known. “I'm so proud of you,” he tells his husband, reaching up to brush Viktor's bangs from his face. Viktor catches his hand and kisses his knuckles, smiling, and Yuri finally snaps out of his shock.

 

“I...figured you'd retire soon since you're a fucking geezer, but...I won't lie and say I'm not surprised anyway,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck. Clearing his throat, he turns his attention to Yuuri. “And you, Katsudon? What will you do now?” he asks, because he needs to know.

 

Yuuri lets out a laugh. “You aren't getting rid of me yet. I plan on staying at least one more season, I think. Viktor's staying on as my coach.” He looks at Viktor then, looking a little unsure, but Viktor just smiles reassuringly and nods. “And...we're thinking about moving back to Hasetsu, too, since Viktor won't be skating competitively anymore. It's not a done deal yet, but...it's something we've been considering for a while now.”

 

“That's great!” Phichit exclaims, a wide grin on his face.

 

“Hasetsu charmed me,” Viktor admits. “I'd love to live there again. But we'll see―like Yuuri said, nothing is set in stone just yet.”

 

Yuri wants to be happy for them, he really does, but...they're his shitty family, and he can't say he wants to lose them no matter how much he may say otherwise sometimes. In fact, the thought of them not being around is actually...really upsetting, and he's not quite sure how to handle it.

 

After dinner, Yuuri catches Yuri's sleeve as they're all leaving the restaurant. Otabek pauses for a second before realizing that Viktor and Yuuri probably want to talk to Yuri alone, so he clears his throat and says, “I'll come to your room in a bit to hang out, text me when you're there.” And then he goes, leaving Yuri alone with Viktor and Yuuri.

 

“What is it?” Yuri questions. He still hasn't quite recovered from their announcement, and he kinda just wants to get back to his room and not think about it.

 

“Yurio, we...” Yuuri swallows hard, glancing over at Viktor, who places a comforting hand on the small of his husband's back. “We noticed how quiet you got after we said we might move back to Hasetsu. Are you alright?”

 

“Fine,” Yuri replies automatically. “I'm...happy for you two, you love Hasetsu. And when you go, I won't have to see you two being gross every day anymore so...it's great. Works out perfectly for everyone.” The words sound hollow even to his own ears, and instantly he knows that they're going to see right though him.

 

“Yurio,” Viktor sighs, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. “We know you're upset, you can admit it you know. We were going to wait to ask, but...” He looks down at Yuuri, who's suddenly beaming, and then continues with a growing smile of his own. “We wanted you to know that you're welcome to come with us if we _do_ go, and...if you want, I'd love to be your coach. Obviously it's a lot to think about, so you don't have to answer us right now, but the offer is there.”

 

“I... _what_?” Yuri sputters after a moment, green eyes blown wide. “You want me...to move to Hasetsu with you?” he asks, needing clarification because what the _fuck_.

 

They both nod. Looking a little nervous, Yuuri speaks again. “Only if you want to. It's a big decision, we know that, but...we'd really love it if you came with us.”

 

“ _Why_?” he can't help but ask.

 

Viktor grins. “You're like a son to us, Yurio. And...I think Yakov is going to retire soon, to be quite honest. He's hinted at it to me a few times, because I think it's getting too hard on him.”

 

“That's...I...” He's not really sure what to say, not right now. “I...don't think I can decide right now,” he admits, biting his lip. “Russia is my home, and I...I don't know if I'm ready to leave it, no matter how much I like Hasetsu. But...I really will think about it.”

 

“Take all the time you need,” Yuuri tells him, reaching out to fix Yuri's scarf. “There's no rush. If we do move, it'll be in the summer, so you have lots of time to think.”

 

“Okay,” Yuri mumbles. He can't even find it in himself to be snarky or pretend to act like it's not a big deal―he's too shocked for that. “I'm gonna...go back to my room now,” he tacks on before turning quickly and speedwalking away, already pulling out his phone to text Otabek.

 

_me: heading back now, pls wait for me by my room_

 

He gets an answer right away.

 

_beka: Something wrong?_

 

Yuri bites his lip, thumbs hovering over the keyboard before he answers.

 

_me: just a lot on my mind_  
me: viktor and yuuri just dropped a bomb on me and i  
me: i just need help figuring something out

 

_beka: I'll be waiting, then. Leaving my room now._

 

Yuri doesn't bother texting back, slipping his phone back into his pocket and pulling his arms in close to his body to try and fend off the bitter cold, even though the movement makes his shoulder twinge painfully. Thankfully the hotel isn't very far, in fact he can already see it from where he is, so the walk doesn't take long.

 

Blasts of warm air hit him as soon as he steps into the lobby, but he doesn't stop to bask in it―he heads straight for the elevator, pressing the button for his floor and tapping his foot impatiently as he waits for it to go up and stop.

 

He finds Otabek waiting outside his door when he steps out of the elevator, still wearing the fitted black jeans and burgundy button-up he'd worn to dinner. He probably hadn't had time to change, which makes Yuri feel a little bad, but Otabek must not mind too much if he's here.

 

Silently, Yuri unlocks the door and they step inside. He unwinds his scarf from around his neck and tosses it aside, followed by his coat which earns a wince as he slips it off.

 

“Yura, you should ice your shoulder again,” Otabek tells him, catching the pained look on his face.

 

“Too cold right now,” Yuri replies, shaking his head. “It's okay for now, I promise,” he adds, seeing Otabek's disapproving look.

 

“If you say so...” Otabek answers, reaching for a blanket and carefully wrapping it around Yuri's shoulders. The action is full of tenderness, and Yuri can't help but blush. Luckily his cheeks are still red from the cold air outside, thought, so it's unnoticeable. “Here, let's sit and get you warmed up.”

 

Yuri allows himself to be tugged over by the waist to the bed and pulled against Otabek's warm side as the big blanket on his bed is pulled over both of them, a strong arm wrapping around his good side and gently rubbing warmth into the arm not laying against him. “...thanks,” he says quietly, looking down at his lap and pulling the sleeves of his sweater down over his cold hands.

 

“The sooner we get some ice on your shoulder, the better,” Otabek tells him, and Yuri doesn't need to look at him to know that he's smiling. He can hear it in the tone of his voice, wrapping around him like an extra blanket and making him feel warm on the inside. “Anyway, what did Viktor and Yuuri talk to you about?” he asks.

 

“Oh, uh...” In all honesty, Otabek's proximity had kind of made him forget for a moment. _How embarrassing,_ he thinks to himself. “Well...they said that...if they do move back to Hasetsu, then I'm welcome to come with them. Viktor offered to be my coach and everything. He...also said I'm like a son to them, because he's an embarrassing old geezer.”

 

“That's sweet of him to say,” Otabek answers. Yuri looks over in time to see Otabek's brows go up. “But, wow...that's definitely a lot to think about,” he muses. “What are you thinking? Is it something you'd want to do?”

 

“I really don't even know,” Yuri admits, sighing. “I mean...I like Hasetsu a lot, and I don't even know how long I've wanted Viktor to be my coach, but...I don't know, Beka, it's just so much to think about. I mean...I've lived in Russia my whole life, y'know? My grandpa is here, along with everything else I've ever known. I know I'm almost eighteen, but...I feel like a scared little kid right now,” he admits, letting out a shaky breath. “That sounds stupid, doesn't it?”

 

“Not at all,” Otabek assures him, giving his arm a squeeze. “Yura, it's a really big decision, it's normal to be scared about something like that. I've moved around a lot since I started figure skating, and it's never not scary. But I'm glad I did it, because I got to experience so much living in so many different places. You already know what Hasetsu is like, plus you'd have Viktor and Yuuri with you, so...I don't know, it's obviously up to you in the end, but you really should consider going with them. I think it would be good for you.”

 

“You're probably right,” Yuri tells him, taking a deep breath. “I have until the summer to decide, so I'm probably gonna think about it a little longer, but...I feel better after talking to you about it. Thanks, Beka,” he finishes, leaning his head on Otabek's shoulder tiredly. It's been a long, exhausting day, and he's so warm now that it's making him sleepy―sleepy enough that he doesn't bother to worry about whether laying his head on his shoulder is too much, and if he's crossing some kind of line by doing so. He's comfortable here like this, and that's all that matters.

 

“You're welcome,” Otabek answers softly. “Also, don't you dare fall asleep, you're icing your shoulder whether you want to or not. Plus, you don't even have your pajamas on yet.”

 

“Shh,” Yuri mumbles. “Just wanna rest my eyes for a few minutes. Relax, yeah?”

 

He feels Otabek let out a sigh of defeat. “Okay, but only for a few minutes,” he says, resting his own head on top of Yuri's. It's nice in a thrilling kind of way, laying against his best friend who he just so happens to be helplessly in love with. The closeness doesn't make him feel sad right now―it's just comforting, soothing.

 

Content and at peace, he allows his eyes to fall shut, feeling gentle the pull of sleep. Otabek must feel it too, because they both end up sleeping through the night just like that without even meaning to.

 

And though he doesn't say so to Otabek, it's the best sleep Yuri's had in months.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter down, and yuri's finally taking things a little better, the poor kid :')
> 
> there will be another lil timeskip in the next chapter! i have big plans for the next chapter actually B) it's just a matter of writing it all, i guess, which hopefully won't take too long?? but who knows when it comes to me :')
> 
> as always, if you enjoyed the chapter, please don't hesitate to let me know! comments are awesome motivators to keep writing, after all (i mean, i'll keep writing regardless, but they're still a great help). hmu here or on [tumblr](http://nikiforohv.tumblr.com%22) as usual!!
> 
> i'll see you all soon with the next chapter!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY IT'S BEEN 2 MONTHS SINCE THE LAST CHAPTER PLS FORGIVE ME
> 
> getting myself to focus enough to write this has been rough, especially since so many games have come out lately (hello breath of the wild and persona 5) so most of my time has been spent on playing those, among other things
> 
> i swear i'm going to finish this fic tho!!!!!! it may take me a lil while, but i'm not giving up, so please bear with me!!!!
> 
> anyway, enough of that! pls enjoy this extra long sappy chapter to maybe make up for the long absence :')

The Grand Prix final ends, and Yuri and Otabek are forced to say goodbye once more. There's only a few months until Worlds, though, so it's not as tough as it could be―they know they'll see each other soon enough, even though they both know that they won't get to talk to each other a whole lot with how much they'll be practicing.

 

The months leading up to Worlds pass in a blur of training and Skype calls. Yakov announces that he will in fact be retiring after Worlds, and Yuuri and Viktor follow up with the announcement that, yes, they're definitely moving to Hasetsu in the summer. And even though it's still a little scary to think about uprooting his entire life...Yuri lets them know that he'll be joining them, much to their excitement.

 

At Worlds, Yuri redeems himself for his failure at the Grand Prix Final and takes the silver, with Otabek finally getting his gold. Yuri's obviously sad he didn't get the gold himself, but any sadness is completely overshadowed by sheer pride for his best friend, because Otabek deserves it.

 

After all the festivities, Otabek all but drags him out on the town. “I didn't get to celebrate your birthday with you, so we're going to celebrate now,” he offers in explanation. “I'm taking you out for your first drink.”

 

“Okay,” Yuri replies, suddenly a little excited.

 

Otabek finds a quiet pub, informing Yuri that they're going to get some food while they're at it. They find a booth in a hidden corner, maximizing their privacy, and take turns looking at the laminated menu. Everything sounds disgustingly fattening, but they're treating themselves―they won gold and silver medals, after all, so they figure it's fine this time.

 

When someone comes to take their orders, Yuri feels a little thrill go through him when he's asked to show his I.D. It's handed back to him with a nod, and he can't help but feel grown up, which is a childish thing to think but _seriously_ , this feels kind of monumental even though he's never really cared about drinking in the past.

 

“Look at you,” Otabek teases, grinning. “Pleased with yourself?”

 

Yuri rolls his eyes. “Shut up, this is like...a landmark in my life. My first legal drink as a legal adult. You aren't allowed to tease me for being excited,” he replies, crossing his arms.

 

Otabek holds up his hands in surrender. “I won't say another word.”

 

Their drinks are brought out first, and Yuri immediately insists that they take a picture for Instagram. Otabek sighs but agrees, smiling, and Yuri holds up his drink and snaps a picture, giving it a once-over and deciding that it's a good enough picture to upload.

 

“ _first drink with @otabek-altin! #finallylegal #happylatebirthdaytome_ ” he captions.

 

Once he's done, he hits post, and the likes and comments immediately start flowing in. Yuri doesn't pay them much mind, though he rolls his eyes at Viktor's comment of “@katsukiyuuri can you believe our little boy is all grown up???” along with a crying emoji.

 

“Viktor is such an idiot,” he mumbles, absently scrolling through his notifications. He stops when he sees Alfia's username, seeing that she'd liked the picture and left a comment.

 

_I hope you're both having fun!! Give Beka a kiss on the cheek for me <3 be safe boys, don't drink too much!!_, it reads, and Yuri hastily shoves his phone into his pocket in embarrassment.

 

“What did he say?” Otabek questions, lifting his glass of beer to his lips and taking a drink. Yuri has yet to touch his own.

 

“He just said something about his little boy growing up,” Yuri mutters, grabbing his glass and taking a gulp, immediately choking at the disgusting taste much to Otabek's amusement.

 

“You good?” Otabek asks, not even trying to hide his grin as he nonchalantly takes another drink of his beer, the smug asshole.

 

“I'm...fine,” Yuri grinds out, trying to hide his grimace as he takes another, smaller drink. “I was caught off guard, this is _great_.”

 

Otabek snorts. “You do realize you're an awful liar, don't you? It's okay if you don't like it, you can order something else and I can drink the rest if you want.”

 

Yuri sighs. “ _Okay_ , it's fucking disgusting, but I'm no quitter. I'll finish this fucking beer even if it kills me, and then I'm going to order something that doesn't taste like the inside of a shoe.”

 

“I'd ask why you know what the inside of a shoe tastes like, but I'm not really sure that I want to know,” Otabek laughs. “But fine, if you want to suffer and be stubborn, be my guest, Yura. It makes for good entertainment, at least.”

 

“You're the worst,” Yuri mutters. “Sadistic bastard.”

 

Otabek just shrugs. “I must not be too bad if you willingly hang around me.”

 

“...shut up,” Yuri sulks, bracing himself and taking another drink of the disgusting amber liquid.

 

By the time the server returns with their chicken wings and onion rings, they've both finished their beer, though Yuri is decidedly less enthusiastic about doing so than his best friend. Otabek orders another, while Yuri opts for cider instead, and the server smiles and assures them he'll be right back with their drinks.

 

“I've missed fried food,” Yuri sighs happily, biting into an onion ring. “I can already feel my arteries clogging, but I don't even care. This shit is heavenly.”

 

Otabek hums in agreement, chewing the chicken in his mouth. “It's definitely a nice treat after all the strict dieting,” he agrees. “Anyway, have you guys decided exactly when you're moving to Japan?” he asks, reaching for an onion ring.

 

Yuri swallows the food in his mouth before answering. “Yuuri was thinking late May, mid-June at the latest, so...it'll be pretty soon.”

 

“Are you going to bring Niva?”

 

Biting his lip, Yuri shakes his head. “Traveling scares her, I don't know if wanna do that to her. She's...staying with Gramps instead, at least for now.”

 

“It's probably for the best,” Otabek says softly. “I know you'll miss her, but it's best to keep her happy. At least you'll have Makkachin.”

 

Yuri nods. “Yeah, I think she'll be happier staying in Russia. It'll suck, but I wanna do what's best for her, y'know?” Otabek nods, and Yuri grabs a chicken wing and takes a bite, taking his time to chew and swallow before he speaks again. “You'll come visit me once I'm settled in, right? Even if it's only for a little bit...Viktor and Yuuri are looking for a house for us, so it'll be a new place for you to see.”

 

“Definitely,” Otabek answers. “I'll come for a few days, at least. I like Hasetsu, anyway.”

 

Yuri snorts. “Using me for a chance to go back, huh? I see how it is.”

 

Otabek laughs, rolling his eyes. “You know that's not the case, Yura.”

 

“Sure,” Yuri replies, grinning. “Really, Beka, I'm hurt.”

 

Otabek shakes his head and opens his mouth to retort, but the server comes back with their drinks at that moment. They thank him, reaching for their drinks, and Yuri takes a hesitant sip. Thankfully this one is much better, and he lets out a content sigh and takes a bigger drink before setting it down.

 

“Judging by the look on your face, that one's better than the beer, huh?” Otabek questions, quirking an eyebrow.

 

“Much better,” Yuri answers, grinning. “I don't know how you drink that shit, you're weird.”

 

“Plenty of people enjoy the taste of beer,” Otabek points out. “Maybe _you're_ the weird one for not liking it.”

 

“Doubtful,” Yuri scoffs, biting into his chicken.

 

They continue picking away at their food and drinking their drinks, talking about everything and nothing all at once, and as time passes, Yuri begins to feel a warm buzz in his head and his gut. It's a pleasant feeling, and he wants more of it, so he waves the server over and orders another cider and a beer for Otabek, along with two shots of vodka―one for each of them.

 

“You sure about this?” Otabek questions, looking like he's trying not to laugh. “Vodka is a lot stronger than beer or cider, Yura.”

 

Yuri waves a hand dismissively. “It'll be fine, Beka. I'm Russian, I'm like...predestined to have a high tolerance to alcohol,” he reasons.

 

Otabek lets out a short laugh, holding up his hands in surrender. “Famous last words, Yura. Don't blame me when you're on your ass on the sidewalk later when we're walking back to the hotel.”

 

“That won't happen,” Yuri argues, shaking his head. “One little shot won't hurt.”

 

And sure, maybe one shot wouldn't have, but...after the first, he orders them each another. And then...another. Those, paired with the three glasses of cider he drinks and the one glass of beer he had in the beginning get him well and truly drunk, and unexpectedly, Otabek ends up just as intoxicated.

 

“I thought...I thought you'd have a higher tolerance,” Yuri hiccups as they're stumbling out of the pub, leaning heavily on each other as they sway along the sidewalk. Thankfully their hotel isn't _too_ far, or else he's not sure they'd get back in one piece.

 

“When...did I ever say that?” Otabek questions, his words slurred around the edges. “You shouldn't―hic―assume things, Yura.”

 

“Sorry,” Yuri answers, giggling. He feels so light, yet so heavy at the same time, and he thinks that's kind of hilarious. A snort escapes him as he remembers Alfia's comment on his picture on Instagram. “Alfia said not t'get too drunk...oops,” he snorts, leaning more heavily on Otabek.

 

“Hmm?” Otabek hums in question, blinking. “When didja talk to Alfia?”

 

“She...” He snorts again, shoulders shaking as he laughs. Why does everything seem so funny right now? “She commented on that picture earlier! The one...the one I put on Instagram. Which reminds me!” He'll probably be mortified when he's sober, but drunk Yuri seems to think it's a great idea to lean down and kiss Otabek's cheek. It's warm, flushed from the liquor, and unexpectedly soft. “That's from her! She said...to give you a kiss on the cheek for her,” he tells him, giving a thumbs up.

 

Otabek stares for a few seconds before his lips form an honest to god _pout_ , something Yuri's never seen him do. “What about you?” he asks, eyebrows knitting together.

 

“Huh?” Yuri questions dumbly, unable to understand Otabek's question due to the haze over his brain.

 

Otabek reaches up, tapping his own cheek. “I need one that's from _you_ too, Yura, or else 's'not fair.”

 

For some reason that makes perfect sense and doesn't feel out of place or strange at all, so Yuri shrugs and leans down again, pressing another kiss to Otabek's cheek, although he lingers a second longer this time without really meaning to. “There, _that_ one was from me,” he sighs, smiling. “Happy?”

 

Otabek shakes his head. “You're too damn...tall, c'mere,” he mumbles, motioning for Yuri to lean down again. The second he does, Otabek's lips touch his cheek in return. “One to send to Alfia,” he slurs matter-of-factly, as if it makes perfect sense, “and one for Yura,” he continues, kissing his cheek a second time, more gently than the first. And then he hugs Yuri, nuzzling his face into his neck. “ _Now_ I'm happy,” he finishes, the words slightly muffled by Yuri's sweater.

 

“...me too,” Yuri replies, burying his face in Otabek's hair. It smells good, like berries or something, and Yuri revels in the closeness. Holding him like this, he can almost imagine they're actually together, but despite the drunkenness, he's still painfully aware of the unreachable distance between them. It just...feels a little easier to ignore right now, he supposes.

 

“It feels like I'm moving,” Otabek suddenly snickers, starting to shake against Yuri with quiet laughter. “'m standing still, but...it doesn't feel like it.”

 

“You're so fuckin' drunk, Beka,” Yuri teases, swaying a little.

 

“You're one t' talk,” Otabek retorts, pulling out of the hug to reach up and flick Yuri's nose. “You're just as bad.”

 

Yuri raises a finger, shaking it. “This isn't...about me, we're talking about _you_. And I'm saying that you're really drunk. I may be really drunk too, but that's ir...irrelevant.” And then, out of nowhere, he gets an idea. “Hey! We should...we should call Mila n' Sara!”

 

“Do it,” Otabek urges him, grinning.

 

Giggling, Yuri pulls out his phone and dials Mila's number, turning on the speakerphone. It rings a for a while, but she picks up before it can stop and go to voicemail.

 

“ _Yuri, I'm a little busy doing something right now, so is this important?”_

 

Yuri snorts. “What are you doin'?” he questions, completely ignoring her question.

 

“ _My girlfriend,”_ Mila answers. _“Now that that's established, are you drunk?”_

 

“Maybe,” he answers, drawing the word out and dissolving into laughter, Otabek immediately joining in, and it's a miracle they're managing to stay upright with how heavily they're leaning on each other.

 

“ _Oh my god, Sara, he's drunk,”_ Yuri hears her say. _“Is Otabek drunk too?”_

 

“Very,” Otabek answers, and Yuri's sure he's never seen him laugh this hard before.

 

“ _Oh dear god,”_ Mila mumbles, but she sounds like she's trying not to laugh. _“Printcessa, get dressed, we need to see this. Yuri, where are you?”_

 

“Uhh...” Yuri glances around. “By th' hotel maybe? I...Beka, where the fuck are we?”

 

“I dunno,” Otabek answers. “I thought you knew where we were goin'...”

 

“There's a park,” Yuri says, grabbing Otabek by the hand and swaying as he pulls him toward the grass. He allows himself to fall, nearly dropping his phone in the process, and Otabek ends up getting dragged down with him. “The grass is...so soft, Mila, and cold. I like this grass.”

 

Mila starts to laugh uncontrollably on the other end of the line, and it takes a moment for her to compose herself enough to speak. _“Stay right where you are,”_ she snickers. _“We're gonna find you, just...don't go anywhere, you fucking dumbasses.”_

 

“I'm fine right here on this grass, it's okay,” he mumbles. “The grass is my friend. It'll...take care of me. And Beka too. Because...Beka's my friend too.”

 

“ _You're definitely not fine, just...oh my god, just stay right where you are and we'll find you as soon as we can.”_

 

Otabek takes Yuri's phone from his hand, the other still holding tight to Yuri's hand, and presses it to his mouth. “'m a responsible adult,” he tells her, hiccuping. “I can keep us safe...”

 

Sara can be heard laughing in the background, and Mila sounds like she's struggling to keep herself quiet. _“Oh yeah?”_ she asks. _“So I can trust you to stay there and make sure Yuri doesn't wander off?”_

 

“Oh yeah,” Otabek answers, scoffing. “I'm the _most_ responsible so. I can handle that. Because...I'm responsible. And...Yuri is a baby. Babies need t'be taken care of. Everyone knows that.”

 

“Fuck you Beka, I'm not a fuckin'...baby, fuck,” Yuri mumbles. His eyes feel heavy―the grass is so comfortable that it's making him sleepy. “'m just as responsible as you, I'm an adult too? I'm an...adultier adult, probably.”

 

“Noooo,” Otabek argues rolling over on top of him and shaking his head. “You're younger, you can't be an adultier adult. 's'not how life works. You're just a...baby adult tryin' to be a cool guy.”

 

“Are you...are you sayin' I'm not cool...?”

 

“Noooo Yura you're...so cool? The coolest probably.”

 

Yuri's lower lip juts out in a pout. “Promise?”

 

Otabek nods. “Promise.” He pokes Yuri's lip, snorting. “Stop, you look cute when you do that n' I know you hate that so I'm bein' a good buddy n' telling you.”

 

“It's okay sometimes,” Yuri informs him, nearly biting Otabek's finger by accident. “Like right now, with y―”

 

“ _Heeey, you guys haven't moved, right?”_ Mila cuts in. Yuri hadn't even realized the call was still going.

 

“We're on the floor. No the...the soft ground thing. Grass. We're on the grass. Did I tell you how cold it is? It's so good,” Yuri sighs, trying to roll over to nuzzle his face in the grass, but Otabek's hand holding his own stops him. “Whoa, Beka, since when were we holdin' hands?”

 

“Since...birth, probably. Because we're best friends. Best friends...can hold hands too. I love you so much, you're my favorite person ever,” Otabek sighs, rolling over and resting his head in the crook of Yuri's shoulder.

 

Maybe it's the liquor―actually, it's _definitely_ the liquor―but Yuri feels himself tear up at Otabek's words. “No, you're _my_ favorite person ever,” he whispers. “I really love you a lot, so you _promise_ you love me too?”

 

Otabek raises his free hand, pinky extended. “Pinky promise,” he slurs, eyes drooping.

 

“I fuckin'―” He sniffles, feeling a hot tear roll down his cheek. “I fuckin' love you Beka.”

 

“I fuckin' love you too, Yura,” Otabek mumbles, scooting even closer and nuzzling against Yuri's neck.

 

“You already said that...”

 

“So did you,” Otabek retorts, snorting. “'m gonna...say it again, too. I love you, Yura. Thanks for...bein' in my life 'n' stuff. I love you. So don't...don't cry.”

 

“Sorry,” Yuri croaks out, wiping his eyes with the edge of his sleeve. “'m drunk and emotional, can't help it.”

 

With what looks like a great amount of effort, Otabek pushes himself into a sitting position and turns his body so that he's hovering over Yuri, nearly falling on top of him in the process due to the liquor in his body making him uncoordinated. He reaches out as carefully as a drunk person can, narrowly avoiding poking Yuri in the eye as he allows a finger to swipe away the moisture under it, and his hand rests tenderly on Yuri's cheek. “Are you sad?” he asks.

 

Yuri shrugs. “I dunno. I guess 'm always kinda sad. But...right now...I don't feel so sad. B'cause...I get to spend time with you, and...that's all I need t'be happy.”

 

Otabek just stares, and through the drunken haze, Yuri wonders if maybe he's said something strange. “Beka...? Did I say somethin' funny? You're starin'...”

 

Next thing he knows, Otabek is flopping down on top of him and hugging him as best he can. “Nah,” he whispers, his mouth right next to Yuri's ear. He squeezes tighter. “That's...all I need to be happy too, Yura.”

 

“Can I visit you in th' summer?” Yuri asks, slipping his arms around his best friend and sniffling again. He's still crying. “I haven't been to Almaty in forever...”

 

“I'd love that,” Otabek murmurs, lifting his head to show his smile.

 

Not for the first time, it hits Yuri that _damn_ , his best friend is fucking beautiful. Beautiful, amazing, and very much out of his reach. Pulling him back down so that he doesn't see the fresh tears that are falling, Yuri hugs him tight to his chest, wishing that he'd never have to let him go.

 

* * *

 

He thinks that maybe they'd dozed off for a few minutes before Sara and Mila find them, still laying on the grass with Otabek still laying on top of Yuri.

 

“You two are fucking messes,” Mila sighs, but there's affection in her tone.

 

Yuri blinks hard, momentarily disoriented, and above him, Otabek groans when Sara lightly kicks his thigh.

 

“Come on, get up so we can get your drunk asses back to the hotel,” Sara tells them, sounding exasperated yet amused.

 

“I think I forgot how my legs work,” Otabek groans.

 

“Here, Sara, you grab that arm,” Mila instructs as they each move to either side of the two lumps of human flesh on the grass. They each grab one of Otabek's arms and heft him up, and Mila helps Sara wrap one of his arms around her neck so she can steady him while he walks. Once Otabek is sorted out, the redhead turns her attention to Yuri, who's trying valiantly to keep his eyes open. With a fondness only reserved for him in her eyes, she reaches down and grabs his hands. “C'mon, kiddo, up we go,” she says softly, pulling him up. He's unsteady, unable to stop himself from falling into her. It's times like these when he remembers how fucking _strong_ Mila is, because she doesn't seem fazed by all the deadweight and gangly limbs that slam into her. She simply maneuvers him into the same position Otabek is in with Sara, holds him firmly by the arm and waist, and coaxes his legs into moving forward.

 

“Mila? I fuckin' love you,” he slurs, leaning more heavily against her.

 

He feels her laugh. “I love you too, Yuri.”

 

“No, but really,” he insists. “You're like...the big sister I never had. I love you so much. I'm sorry I don't...say it when I'm sober. It's just 'cause I'm too scared to tell people how I...really feel or whatever when 'm sober because it makes me feel vulnerable 'n' shit. Fuck, did I jus' roast myself?”

 

“Oh Yuri,” she sighs, sounding fond. “Don't worry, I know. You're quite transparent, no matter how much you try not to be, so...I already know that, but thank you for telling me anyway,” she finishes, kissing his cheek.

 

They somehow make it back to the hotel without any incidents, although Yuri is practically falling asleep on Mila's shoulder by the time they finally get there. So it's a surprise when he feels himself jostled, two new sets of hands replacing Mila's, and he slowly looks from side to side to find Yuuri and Viktor holding on to him now, looking fond and a little exasperated on top of the unmistakable dishevelled I-just-got-out-of-bed look.

 

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Viktor asks, unable to hide his grin.

 

“Fuck yeah,” Yuri mumbles.

 

“Thanks for coming down to meet us,” he hears Mila say to them, and he looks over to see her moving to help Sara keep Otabek upright. “We need to get this guy to his room, so it's helpful that you two can take care of that dumbass.”

 

“'m not a dumbass, fuck you,” Yuri hisses, the words heavily slurred, and he hiccups. “Shit, fuck, that was mean. I love you,” he amends.

 

“Even if you hadn't told me about fifty times on the walk here, I'd already know that,” she teases, winking. “But thank you, Yuri, I love you too.”

 

“I love all of you,” Yuri continues, pointing at all of them. “I love Sara, and Mila, and obviously Beka...'n' I love my two shitty not-dads. Fuck,” he sighs, looking back and forth between Viktor and Yuuri. “I fuckin'...I love you both so much? I pretend I don't, but I really do. Like, _really_ do, I don't...” He swallows hard, blinking back tears―apparently liquor makes him very emotional. “I don't know what I'd do without you dumbasses, 'n' I'm really glad 'm movin' to Japan with you both. Don't tell sober me I said that, though, he'll kick my ass.”

 

“Yurio...!” Viktor gasps, and suddenly he's being squeezed by the older man.

 

“We love you too,” Yuuri tells him, wrapping his arms around him from behind and turning it into a group hug. “We're very glad you're coming with us, too. You're part of our family.”

 

“I can't believe my son finally admitted he loves me,” Viktor sniffs.

 

Yuuri laughs softly. “I know, I'm happy too. But we need to get him to bed now, so let's get moving, dear,” he says, gently prying Yuri from his husband's arms. “Hang on to me tight, okay Yurio?”

 

“Mmhm,” Yuri mumbles. He lets Yuuri pull him along, feeling Viktor wrap an arm around him to support his other side, and a calm, happy feeling washes over him. “Yo, Katsudon?” he begins as they all pile into the elevator, head tilting to the side. Yuuri raises a brow and lets out a little hum to show he's listening. “I never told you this, but I look up to you so much? 'N' that year you nearly quit, I was so fuckin' mad, because holy shit you're so good? So I'm like...glad you found your confidence or whatever, 'cause like...you work so fuckin' hard, and I admire that a lot. So don't go retirin' on me anytime soon, or I'll fuckin' kick your ass. Got it?” The elevator doors open, and the six of them head out toward their rooms.

 

“My god, he's going to be so embarrassed about all the shit he's saying right now when he's sober tomorrow,” Sara snickers from behind them.

 

“Without a doubt,” Mila agrees.

 

“Shhhhhh,” Yuri hushes them. “That's a problem for sober Yuri. Drunk Yuri is gonna say whatever the fuck he wants.”

 

“Why are you talking about yourself in the third person?” Sara asks.

 

“Fuck if I know, I'm fuckin' drunk,” he mutters. “Anyway!” He turns his attention back to Yuuri, who looks a little glossy-eyed after hearing what he'd said. “I fuckin' love you, Katsudon, did I say that already?”

 

“You can say it as many times as you want,” Yuuri replies, sounding a little choked up.

 

“Hey, Otabek, where's your room key?” Mila asks.

 

Otabek groans. “Wallet.”

 

“Sara, grab his wallet while I hold him up,” Mila sighs.

 

“Yurio, I think you should stay in our room tonight,” Viktor says in a soft voice. “I'm worried you'll get sick, I don't think you should be alone.”

 

“I agree,” Yuuri chimes in, brushing Yuri's long hair back from his face.

 

“Fuckin' worrywarts,” Yuri mumbles.

 

“Is that a yes?” Viktor asks, eyebrow raised.

 

“I guess, if y'think it's necessary,” he replies, huffing.

 

“Shit, should we let Otabek stay with us then?” Sara asks.

 

“'M fine,” Otabek cuts in. “I don't get sick, I jus' need water and a bed.”

 

“As long as you're sure,” Mila tells him, sounding a little skeptical. “You have my number though, right? Call me if you need anything.”

 

Otabek hums affirmatively. “I need...to hug Yura,” he declares.

 

Hesitantly, Sara and Mila let him go, and Otabek stumbles toward Yuri. Viktor and Yuuri let go of him momentarily so that he can collapse into his best friend's embrace, sighing in content when Otabek's arms go around him.

 

“Love you,” Otabek says, voice muffled by Yuri's chest.

 

“Love you more,” Yuri answers.

 

“Off to bed, you two, let's go,” Mila says firmly in her most no-nonsense tone, and reluctantly, they let go of each other. Sara and Mila guide Otabek away, and Viktor supports Yuri once more as Yuuri unlocks the door to their hotel room.

 

“Viktor, lend him some of your pajamas?” Yuuri asks once they're in, shedding his coat.

 

“Of course,” Viktor replies, leading Yuri toward the bed. Yuri plops down, letting a long sigh loose.

 

Yuuri looks at him, a questioning look on his face. “Why the sigh, Yurio?”

 

“You two have it so fuckin' _good_ ,” he sighs again, laying back and covering his eyes with an arm. “Wish I had something like what you idiots have.”

 

He feels the mattress dip beside him, followed by a hand tugging his arm away. He opens his eyes, finding Yuuri looking at him with a soft, almost sad look. “And you wish you had it with Otabek, right?”

 

“Oh shit, am I that obvious?”

 

Viktor snorts. “You may not have ever flat-out told us, but it's easy for us to see that you're in love with him, Yurio. It's the way you look at him, and the way you act when you're apart or when the topic of his girlfriend comes up.” Momentarily giving up on finding Yuri some pajamas, he takes a seat on his other side, patting his shoulder. “We've seen how it tears you apart, Yuri. It's a wonder he doesn't see it.”

 

“Fuck,” he mumbles, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes to try and push back the hot tears he can feel coming. “I fuckin' love him, and I can't do anything about it.”

 

Tender hands pull him back up into a sitting position, and then he's being pulled against Yuuri's warm chest in a gentle hug, and he feels Viktor's fingers soothingly work through the multitude of knots throughout his long blonde hair, untangling them as gently as he can. “I'm sorry you have to go through this, Yuri,” Yuuri says softly. “It can't be easy for you. But...you're so strong, and you're handling it beautifully. I'm proud of you, okay?”

 

“Fuck, y'can't say shit like that when 'm drunk and emotional,” Yuri chokes out, sniffling against the fabric of Yuuri's loose sleep shirt.

 

“You'd bite his head off if he said it any other time,” Viktor reminds him, teasing yet gentle all the same.

 

Yuri ignores him. “I just...he kissed my cheek a few times tonight, 'n' I kissed his too. It's so fuckin' stupid, because I know he has Alfia, but...I'm stupid and I let it get my hopes up anyway. But it's pointless, yeah?” Yuri lets out a humorless laugh. “I'm tryin' to find meaning where there isn't any. Fuckin' pathetic, isn't it?”

 

Yuuri clicks his tongue softly, hugging Yuri tighter. “I think anyone in your situation would be looking for meaning in something like that, you aren't pathetic at all,” he soothes.

 

“Listen, I packed up my entire life and moved to a different country on a whim because of a man I fell in love with when he drunkenly danced with me at a party, so you can't really get any worse than that,” Viktor shrugs, drawing a quiet snort from his husband.

 

“Yeah, but Katsudon's, like...been in love with you since he was a kid, and now you assholes are married. Shit actually worked out for you by doing that. I don't...I don't think the same can happen for me. Alfia is good for Beka, he'd be stupid to leave her,” Yuri argues, hiccupping.

 

“Viktor, water?” Yuuri asks quietly, and Yuri feels the hand in his hair disappear as Viktor rises and runs over to their mini fridge, returning with a bottle of water which he twists open and hands to Yuri. As he sips at it, Yuuri continues to speak. “Yuri, you can never be sure of what the future holds,” he tells him, brushing blond bangs from Yuri's face. “Obviously I don't...want to get your hopes up in case I'm wrong or anything, but...” He pauses, looking to Viktor, who just nods. “Viktor and I have always thought that you two would end up together somewhere down the road. There's just...something about how you two are when you're together. There's this magnetism, you know? When he started dating his girlfriend, I was honestly quite shocked, because I figured that...I don't know, that it would be you two, I guess. Because honestly? The way he looks at you looks a lot like the way Viktor looks at me,” he finishes, reaching out to take his husband's hand, lovingly rubbing his thumb over the gold band on his finger.

 

“Mila says shit like that too,” Yuri says quietly. He feels a little sick. “If...if everyone thinks that way, then why the fuck did things turn out like this? Why's he with her, then, if...according to everyone, he should be with me? It doesn't make any fuckin' sense,” he continues, hating the raw emotion in his tone. He's getting too worked up―maybe drinking isn't a good idea for him, at least not when he's dealing with so much emotional turmoil...

 

“Life doesn't always make sense, I'm afraid,” Viktor hums, free hand returning to Yuri's hair. “Maybe you should just ask him.”

 

Yuri blanches. “No. I'm...never going to say anything about how I feel to him. I can't.”

 

“Not one of your best suggestions, love,” Yuuri adds, sighing at his adorably simple-minded husband. He rubs Yuri's back. “Anyway...I'm sorry you have to be in pain, Yuri. I wish I had some way to make it better, but I can't. I promise Viktor and I are always here if you need to talk, though. I know you confide in Mila a lot since you live with her, and I don't want you to lose that kind of support when you move to Japan with us, so...for the times you can't reach her, or any time really, I promise you have us. You always have, and you always will. We'll always do our best to be what you need us to be, whether it's parental figures or even just big brothers. No matter what shape it takes, the bottom line is that you're family to us.”

 

Yuri's only answer is to hug him tighter, throat too choked with tears to properly respond. Viktor's fingers are a soothing constant in his hair while Yuuri gently rubs his back, and he's not exactly sure when it happens, but he somehow falls asleep just like that...

 

...only to wake who knows how long later, nestled between Yuuri and Viktor under the covers, nausea rolling through his entire body. He feels himself go into a cold sweat as he struggles to free himself, unable to care about whether or not he wakes the other two up in the process, and manages to weasel himself out of bed and run to the bathroom just in time to empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

 

He's only sitting there dry heaving for a moment on his own before he feels warm hands scooping his long hair back, holding it in one hand while the other moves to rub along his spine. He chances a glance back and finds a messy-haired Viktor with a soft look in his eyes, but then he's clenching his eyes shut as he throws up again, his entire body shaking.

 

“Shh, Yurotchka, you're alright,” Viktor soothes, and that's when Yuri realizes he's crying, short choked sobs tearing their way from his chest. “I'm here, you're fine, just get it all out,” the older man continues.

 

“I'm sorry,” Yuri chokes out, shivering violently.

 

“It's okay, you don't have to apologize to me,” Viktor assures him. “There's nothing to apologize for, you can't help it. Just breathe, it'll pass.”

 

“I'm sorry I woke you up,” Yuri blubbers, reaching for the roll of toilet paper and ripping some off so he can wipe at the mess of tears that is his face. “Did I wake Yuuri up t―” He cuts himself off apruptly, his whole body heaving once more in a violent gag, but nothing comes up.

 

“Yuuri sleeps like a log, it's alright. I'm glad I'm a light sleeper, I'd hate for you to be alone right now, so I promise it's okay. Will you be okay for a second? I want to grab you a bottle of water,” he asks, gently smoothing Yuri's bangs back from his face. Yuri just nods shakily, and Viktor leans over to kiss his forehead before rising and hurrying out of the room, returning seconds later with the water. “Take little sips, you don't want to upset your stomach even more,” he tells him, voice soft. Yuri takes the water hesitantly, taking a couple small sips, and then sets it aside, not trusting his stomach to handle any more than that right now.

 

“I'm never drinking again,” Yuri mumbles after a few minutes of calm, when his tears have halted and the shaking has subsided. He's always hated puking―hated the loss of control, hated how irrationally afraid it made him. His stomach feels slightly better now, but he's still wary, ready to lean over the toilet again at a moment's notice.

 

Viktor chuckles. “I think you might've just had a little too much,” he points out. “And it was your first time drinking, so it's no surprise that your tolerance is low.” His brow crinkles. “Yuri, I think you got some vomit in your hair.”

 

Yuri groans. “Let me die.”

 

“Here, sit on the edge of the tub and lean back, I'll wash it for you,” Viktor offers, standing and extending a hand to help Yuri do the same. The blond stands on shaky legs, feeling his stomach swirl dangerously, and he presses a hand to his mouth and squeezes his eyes shut as he waits for the wave of nausea to pass. There's nothing left in his stomach for him to throw up, he's sure of it, so he doesn't want to risk getting sick again and throwing up stomach acid.

 

Once it passes, he reaches down to flush the toilet, shuddering in revulsion, and then allows Viktor to help him sit on the edge of the tub, hands holding the edge as Viktor grabs the detachable shower head and turns the water on, running the water over his hand until it's a good temperature. Yuri lets his eyes close as he leans back, his hands on the edge keeping him from falling, and lets a soft sigh escape when warm water washes over his scalp.

 

“You should've seen it the first time I got drunk,” Viktor hums, a hint of laughter in his voice. “Yakov found me passed out in my tub the next morning, covered in vomit. It wasn't one of my finer moments.”

 

“That's disgusting,” Yuri mutters.

 

Viktor laughs. “It was. At least you made it to the toilet instead of just passing out in the tub. You wouldn't believe how gross my hair was. I was so grossed out that I cut it off the next day,” he explains.

 

“ _That's_ why you cut your hair?” Yuri chokes, eyes flying wide open.

 

The older man laughs again. “Mhmm. There was no deep reason or anything, I was just so disgusted that I didn't want to risk anything like that happening again. I've kept my short hair ever since.”

 

“I can't believe this,” Yuri mumbles, shaking his head.

 

Viktor sets the shower head down, grabbing his shampoo and beginning to lather it into Yuri's hair, gently massaging his scalp. “You and Yakov are the only ones who know,” he tells him, shrugging. “I let everyone else make their own assumptions.”

 

“Do you ever miss it?” Yuri questions.

 

Viktor hums contemplatively. “Sometimes, especially when I look at yours. There's a lot you can do with long hair, after all. But the short hair is much easier to maintain, so I have no regrets.” Reaching down, he rinses the shampoo from his hands and then gets to work on rinsing the bubbles from Yuri's long hair. “This is fun, though. Really takes me back,” he adds, smiling softly.

 

“You sound like a damn old man,” Yuri snorts.

 

“Isn't it disgusting?” Viktor laughs. “I used to hate it―thinking about getting older, I mean. But ever since I found Yuuri, it hasn't bothered me as much. Maybe it's because before, I only had figure skating, and I knew I couldn't do it forever. That terrified me. But now...I have a whole life beyond figure skating, one to spend with him. It's completely changed the way I think.”

 

“That sounds...really nice,” Yuri says quietly, biting his lip. Viktor's started working conditioner into his ends, now. “I'm...glad you have that, old man. You deserve it.” He thinks this might be the nicest he's ever been to Viktor―he must still be a little drunk.

 

“You'll have something like that someday too,” Viktor says with conviction, gently sliding his fingers through Yuri's hair to make sure it's all properly conditioned.

 

“I don't know about that,” Yuri mumbles.

 

“I know you love Otabek, Yuri,” Viktor begins gently, “and I think there's a good chance he feels the same, although maybe he hasn't admitted it to himself. But don't halt your entire life to wait for someone who might never be yours the way you want him to be. Let yourself be open to other possibilities, because you deserve to love someone who's going to love you back the same way. Don't get me wrong, I want that person to be Otabek, because I know what I've seen with my own two eyes, but...right now, he has a girlfriend, and I don't know when or if that will ever change. But no matter what, you just...need to give yourself a chance to be happy. Because I know you try to hide it, but you've been miserable lately. I don't want that for you, Yuri,” he finishes, rinsing the conditioner out.

 

“Believe me, I wish I could just...shut it off, or whatever. I don't wanna feel so shitty all the time, trust me. But there's always this pathetic little voice in my head telling me it could happen, and I get my hopes up even though I know it's only going to make it worse, but as long as that voice is there...I can't even start to let myself try to move past him. Viktor, I...” His eyes prick with tears, and he hastily tries to blink them away―he's sick and tired of crying, goddammit. “This is the first time I've ever felt this way about anyone, and I just...I don't know what to do. He's my best friend, why did it have to become anything other than that? Why couldn't I have been content with just that? It's so fucking stupid and unfair and I just...never wanted it to happen. But it did, and I can't get over him and I don't even think I _want_ to, to be completely honest. I'm so pathetic that I'll live with my stupid feelings and keep them to myself as long as it means I get to keep him in my life, because it's better than losing him.”

 

Viktor shuts the water off, putting the shower head back in its holder, and wraps a fluffy towel around Yuri's hair before pulling him up into a hug, careful not to squeeze too tightly and make him feel sick again. “Love can be so unpleasant at times,” he murmurs, rubbing Yuri's back. “I wish there was something I could do, I hate to see you suffer.”

 

“I'll live,” Yuri mumbles, letting his head fall to rest on Viktor's shoulder. “You don't have to worry about me, I'll be alright.”

 

“There he is, that tough, lonesome little ice tiger of Russia, who brushes off the people who try to worry about him and tries to pretend he's okay by ignoring any weakness he finds within himself,” Viktor sighs, letting out a soft chuckle. “Listen, don't you worry about whether or not I'm worrying, because regardless of what you say, I'm going to worry anyway. I want you to worry about yourself, instead. You've spent so much of your life locking everything away that you deem to be a weakness, and I think the reason it's hitting you so hard now is because you don't know how to deal with emotions like this, because you never let yourself learn how to. It's okay to not be okay, Yuri. It took me a while to figure that out, but the sooner you learn to accept that, the easier things will be for you.”

 

“...shut up, old man,” he says quietly, the words lacking any real bite. _It's okay to not be okay_. He lets the words wash over him, and wonders when flighty, airheaded, impulsive Viktor got so wise.

 

“Okay, I get it, I'll stop with the emotional talk. Wouldn't want you to explode from emotion overload, after all,” Viktor teases, letting him go. “Just...know that I'm here for you, brat.”

 

“I...yeah, okay,” he concedes, feeling the need to argue and say he doesn't need it, but he knows he does. “Thanks, Viktor.”

 

There's quiet delight in Viktor's eyes at the easy acceptance, and he gently urges Yuri to sit on the toilet seat. “I'll brush your hair,” he offers, already pulling the towel from Yuri's head. The blond doesn't argue, content to let Viktor gently comb through the knots and tangles in his long hair. The soothing, repetitive motions are almost enough to put him to sleep―Viktor knows how to handle hair this length, so it doesn't hurt like it usually does when he lets other people brush his hair.

 

Once the knots are gone, he feels Viktor start to weave it into a french braid. It gets it out of his face, so he doesn't really mind; it'll be comfortable when he goes back to sleep, too.

 

The last thing Viktor does for him before they go back to sleep is give him something to soothe his upset stomach. Yuri takes it gratefully, swallowing it down with some water, and then he lets himself be pulled back to bed, settling back into his spot between his two embarrassing, loving, not-dads.

 

Yuuri stirs when they lay down, blinking blearily in the weak early-morning light filtering in through the curtains. “Something happen?” he asks, voice thick with sleep.

 

“Nothing you need to worry about, _luchik_. Go back to sleep,” Viktor hushes him, reaching over Yuri to tenderly stroke his sleepy husband's cheek.

 

“Is Yuri still here?” Yuuri questions drowsily, already falling asleep again.

 

“I'm here,” he answers, voice small.

 

A sleepy smile stretches across Yuuri's face. “Good. Love you, boys,” he mumbles, nuzzling into his pillow.

 

Viktor echoes him easily, and Yuri swallows the dumb lump in his throat. “Love you too,” he whispers, embarrassed.

 

His grandpa has always tried very hard to give him all the love in the world, and Yuri knows and appreciates that. But he's just one person, and one person can't fill a family-shaped void. So...even though they aren't blood related, Yuri is glad to have these two stupid, embarrassing idiots in his life―because they've given him something he hasn't had since he was very young, back when his mother was still around.

 

They've given him a real family, and he wouldn't trade that feeling for the world.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so much is going on, but one thing is for sure: yuri plisetsky is loved by many people
> 
> not gonna make any promises because i don't have the transition all ironed out, but...i've had the Big Moment written for a while now, and if things go the way i'm planning, it'll be coming very soon!! (like, i'm talkin next chapter or the chapter after Soon) so that's exciting!!!!!!!!! i've kept u all waiting long enough after all :')
> 
> i'll do my best to get the next one out sooner!! i'm gonna start working on it rn, so hopefully i can get it done soon (i don't have a job rn so i have plenty of free time until i find a new one, so i'm gonna try and use that time wisely)
> 
> thank you all for being patient and sticking around, and i'm sorry i havent replied to comments in a while, but pls know that every comment i get means the world to me!! feedback keeps me coming back, yall
> 
> (hopefully) see you guys soon!!
> 
> [tumblr](http://nikiforohv.tumblr.com) | [buy me a coffee if u want](https://ko-fi.com/A11213PY)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by some miracle, im back already with a new chapter!!! it's shorter than the last one and not as eventful, but i hope you'll all enjoy it anyway <3

Months pass in a blur. In mid-April, Yuri takes Niva to his grandpa's home so she can get settled in and stays with him for a couple weeks, getting his fill of pirozhkis while he can, since he's not sure when he'll be back to visit once he moves to Japan. He can tell his grandpa is sad to see him go, but he assures Yuri that it's what's best for his career and that he's going to do great there. He reminds Yuri to call at least once a week, though, which Yuri accepts easily―he knows he should already be calling him that much, so he feels a little bad and promises himself to do better. He knows his grandpa is lonely, even though Yuri's cousins visit him a couple times every month. It makes Yuri wish he'd been able to visit him more than just a couple times a year, during the times he's not busy with training. He knows his grandpa would never ask for more than that, knowing how focused Yuri is and not wanting to take away from his training time, but...Yuri knows, sees through his silence easily.

 

Near the end of May, Yuri spends his last night in his shared apartment with Mila. He'd be boarding his flight in the morning, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't sad. He's uprooting basically his whole life, after all, and he'd never expected it to be easy, but...when he thinks about leaving this cozy little apartment, leaving Mila, it makes him embarrassingly emotional. Especially when he looks at his bare room―all of his things, save for a small carry on bag with all of his essentials, had already been shipped to Japan when Yuuri and Viktor had flown out the week before. It's...jarring, to say the least.

 

Mila does her best to treat it like any other night. They huddle together on her bed, a bowl of popcorn sitting between them, and watch shitty movies. Exactly what they'd do any other night, but...the knowledge that it's the last night like this that they're going to have weighs them both down, no matter how much they try to ignore it.

 

When the atmosphere finally becomes unbearable, Mila grabs the remote and pauses the movie, turning toward Yuri. Her blue eyes are a little watery, like she's trying not to cry, and the sight makes tears spring to Yuri's eyes, too.

 

“I can't pretend anymore,” Mila begins softly. “You...fucking brat, I'm going to miss you so fucking much.” A tear rolls down her cheek, and that's the last straw―Yuri tugs her in for a hug, squeezing her tightly, and lets a few tears escape into the fabric of her oversized shirt.

 

“I'm gonna miss you too, you shitty old hag,” he chokes out. “Don't you fucking dare forget about me, got it?”

 

She wheezes out a laugh through the tears. “As if I fucking could. You're my dumbass little brother, that's never going to change no matter where we are.”

 

“You and Sara better come visit,” he mumbles.

 

“Only if you visit us in Canada, too,” she replies. The two of them would be moving to Canada together in a few weeks, having found a coach that would take both of them there. He's happy for them―they finally won't have to be apart anymore, and he won't have to worry about Mila being all alone while he's off living in Japan.

 

“As long as it isn't anywhere near Quebec, where that bastard JJ lives,” he jokes, squeezing her tighter.

 

She snorts. “We're moving to Vancouver, is that far away enough for you?”

 

“That's perfect,” he answers, nuzzling into her shoulder.

 

She pulls back, gently brushing his hair back, and sniffles. “I need you to promise you'll call me if you need me for anything, Yuri. I don't care what time it is, I'll pick up the phone no matter what. I don't...want you to feel alone or anything, because...I'm not just gonna be a room over like I am here, so I won't know if you need me unless you tell me. So...just promise me, yeah?”

 

Biting his lip, he nods. “I will, I promise. But the same applies to you, okay? If Sara's ever being dumb...I'm just a call away,” he tells her.

 

Her eyes well up again, and then Yuri's being crushed to her chest. “Okay,” she whispers, resting her head against his own. “...fuck, I don't know how I'm gonna say goodbye tomorrow. You fucking brat, how dare you make me get so attached to you,” she continues, voice thick with tears. “I'm...so fucking sad, Yuri. Everything is changing.”

 

“I'm sad too,” he admits, sniffling. “I really...don't know what I'm gonna do without you, Mila. Who else is gonna paint my nails while we watch shitty movies and listen to me whine? You're...kind of irreplaceable, y'know?”

 

“Idiot, don't tell me that when I'm already crying,” she blubbers, sniffling against his shoulder. “I'm so worried about you, I just want you to be okay and I hate that I can't be there to hug you when you need me...”

 

“Viktor and Yuuri know everything, so...I'll have them,” he assures her. “I'll be alright, it just...sucks, because...you may annoy the fuck out of me sometimes, but...I fucking love you, Mila, you're my stupid big sister and I just―” He swallows around the lump in his throat, clutching the fabric of her shirt tightly. “I just got used to having you around all the time. You're like...my best friend, Mila.”

 

He feels her sob at that, shaking against him, and it makes him squeeze a little tighter. “You're my best friend, too, and I love you a lot,” she cries. “Like...this is gonna be an awesome opportunity for both of this, but...it still just fucking sucks, doesn't it?”

 

He nods. “But...we'll be okay, once we settle in. Right?”

 

She makes a small affirmative sound. “We will. It'll be a big change, and we're extra emotional right now, but...in the end we're gonna be alright. We'll still see each other when we can, and we can Skype and stuff in the meantime. I'm...I'm not gonna fade out of your life, Yuri. I promise. So promise me you won't fade out of mine, okay?”

 

“Okay,” he chokes out. “Okay, I promise.”

 

Once their tears have finally subsided and their shoulders are practically soaked from each other's tears, Mila unpauses the movie. They huddle together under her blankets, exhausted from all the crying, and eventually they fall asleep just like that. And in the morning, she drives Yuri to the airport to catch his flight. They stand at the gate, holding each other tight as tears slip down their cheeks, and when the announcement comes that it's time to board, Yuri reluctantly releases her from his tight grip. He catches her hand, clutching it almost desperately for a moment because he's irrationally scared to let go of her completely, but she just squeezes it softly, offering him a small, teary smile that says everything he needs to hear right now without her actually saying anything at all.

 

_This isn't goodbye._

 

_We'll see each other again._

 

_You're going to be okay, and so am I._

 

_Don't be afraid._

 

“You gotta let go of me now, kiddo, you need to board the plane,” she whispers, tears creating wet tracks down her pale cheeks. “Call me when you get home, brat. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” he breathes. “I...I love you, you old hag,” he adds, finally letting her hand slip from his own. “Tell Sara I said hi when you get to Canada, yeah?”

 

“I love you too,” she sniffles, clutching her hands to her chest. “And I will, I promise.”

 

He turns, heads through the gate, and doesn't turn around to look at her again. He can't―he feels as if he's leaving a piece of his heart behind, and he can't bear to look back and see her cry any more. They've been roommates for nearly three years now, and they've become much closer than he'd ever imagined they would, so...he supposes it's natural to feel that way. Mila is easily one of the most important people in his life, having been a constant presence for so long, and losing that hurts so much more than he could've imagined.

 

So he doesn't look back, even though he wants to, and boards the plane. Ignores the stares, the looks of sympathy, and does his best to wipe the tears that honestly show no sign of slowing. Thinks he's too emotional to care about the looks directed at him, when he'd normally snap and ask what the fuck everyone is staring at.

 

Everything in his life is changing, and he's fucking terrified. But he refuses to let his fear stop him―he's going to start his new life and live with his weird pseudo-dads and their dog and he's going to live and grow stronger, because that's what he does.

 

He's not going to look back, not for anything.

 

* * *

 

Yuri's first week in Hasetsu is mostly spent settling in and helping Viktor and Yuuri decorate the house to make it into more of a home. It's weird, living in a country whose language he can't speak or understand, so in their free time, he asks Yuuri to start teaching him Japanese. He knows it'll take time, but he figures it's better to start learning now. Even Viktor can speak some, though he's far from fluent, so Yuri wants to catch up so that he doesn't have to rely on them for everything.

 

He keeps himself as busy as he can, basically. Mila texts him often, always to ask how he's doing, but they haven't had time to call each other since they're both so busy. It's probably the longest he's ever gone without hearing her voice, but he knows that once she gets settled in to her new apartment with Sara, they'll be able to talk a little more, though he knows that working around their vastly different timezones will be tricky.

 

At the end of his eighth day in Hasetsu, after completing his nighttime routine, Yuri practically collapses on his bed next to Makkachin with his laptop open in front of him, and waits for his Skype call to be answered. It's late and he's tired, but with the new time difference between them, it can't be helped―he'll stay up as late as he needs to if it means getting to talk to Otabek. Plus, he has exciting news and he can't go to bed until he shares it with his best friend.

 

The call is answered, and Yuri can't help the flutter in his stomach when Otabek's face appears on his screen, the corners of his mouth turned up in a soft smile. _“Hey, Yura,”_ he greets, raking a hand through his hair.

 

“Yo,” Yuri replies, grinning.

 

“ _Is that your new room?”_ Otabek asks.

 

Yuri nods. “Yeah, we finally finished getting everything unpacked and mostly set up. There's still a few more things I need to put up, but...this is pretty much it,” he answers, picking his laptop up and moving around the room to show it off to Otabek. It's nothing that special, but it feels homey enough now that he's managed to decorate it a little. String lights hang around the perimeter, bathing the room in soft yellow light, and one section of the wall is being steadily covered with photographs he'd printed off―mostly of him with Otabek or Mila, but also a few that include Sara or Yuuri and Viktor. He also has a bunch of pictures of Niva up there, as well as his grandpa and even a few with Yakov and Lilia. He still has lots he has to hang, but he'd gotten tired and stopped for the night. Aside from all that, he has a desk, a tv, and a bean bag chair in the corner.

 

“ _I like it,”_ Otabek tells him, smiling a little wider. _“How's living in Hasetsu so far?”_

 

“Same as always,” Yuri shrugs, plopping back down on his bed. “We've been to Yuuri's parents' place for dinner every night this week, which is nice, and it's cool to see the Nishigoris again. The girls are growing up so fast, I can't believe it. Also, living with Yuuri and Viktor surprisingly isn't that bad. The house is big enough that I have plenty of my own space, and they mostly let me keep to myself when I feel like it.”

 

Otabek chuckles. _“I'll have to visit soon, so I can see your new home.”_

 

“Speaking of visiting!” A wide smile stretches across Yuri's face as he reaches for his phone. “Drumroll, please.” With a laugh, Otabek humors him, doing his best impression of a drumroll, and then Yuri holds his phone in front of the webcam, showing the plane ticket confirmation on the screen.

 

“ _You got your ticket,”_ Otabek observes, and the joy in his eyes is unmistakable.

 

“You bet your ass I did,” Yuri replies, tossing his phone aside. “I'll be flying there two weeks from tomorrow, so don't make any plans. Think Alfia will mind if I borrow you for a little while?”

 

Otabek laughs, but it sounds weirdly strained. _“I'm sure she won't.”_

 

Yuri raises an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

 

Otabek shakes his head. _“No, just tired. It's been a long day.”_

 

“Take care of yourself, dumbass. If you're tired, go to bed,” Yuri tells him, shaking his head. “It's not like we can't talk another time.”

 

“ _I want to talk a little longer, though,”_ Otabek says in reply, which makes Yuri's heart stutter in his chest. _“We haven't talked much lately, I miss you. I know you've been busy with the move, though, so I don't really mind. I just...really don't want to hang up yet. Is that okay? I know it's kind of selfish of me to ask, because it's later there than it is here and I'm sure you're tired...”_ Otabek bites his lip. _“On second thought, ignore that―you probably want to go to bed, Yura, I don't want to be the thing that keeps you up, you need your rest―”_

 

“Oh shush, you fuckin' worrywart,” Yuri says warmly, stretching to lay on his stomach, grabbing a pillow to prop his head up. Beside him, Makkachin lifts his head as the bed jostles, staring at him for a few seconds before letting his head rest on his paws again. “Talking to you is more interesting than sleeping, it's fine.”

 

Otabek looks down, laughing, and fiddles nervously with his hair. _“Are you sure? Isn't it like, 1 am over there?”_

 

“Your point?” Yura asks, grinning. “I'm a grown-ass man, Beka, I can stay up as late as I want.”

 

Otabek looks back up, a softness to his eyes that takes Yuri's breath away. _“I suppose that's true. If you're tired tomorrow, though, don't go blaming me.”_

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuri answers, waving a hand. “I accept full responsibility for my actions.”

 

Otabek snorts. _“Good. Anyway...how are you doing? Are you okay?”_ he asks. He'd picked up the habit of asking ever since he'd found out that Yuri had been...dealing with some shit, back in December during the Grand Prix Final, and it's sweet of him, but Yuri doesn't really want to tell him that nothing's changed, that despite everything else that's good in his life, there's still a heavy weight on his chest that just won't disappear, on top of the new pain of missing Mila.

 

So he lies. “I'm alright, Beka, don't worry. I miss Mila a lot and _that_ kinda sucks, but...I'll be okay.”

 

“ _You know that I always worry about you, Yura,”_ Otabek tells him. _“But...if you say so, I'll believe you. Have you...talked to that friend? The one you like?”_ he asks cautiously. Yuri sees the bob of his Adam's apple when he swallows, clearly sensing the nervousness that his friend is feeling, for whatever reason.

 

He lies again. He wishes he didn't have to lie, but he'd gotten himself into this mess and needs to accept the consequences. “Nah, not for a while. We're both...busy, I don't want to bother him.”

 

“ _'Him,' huh?”_

 

Yuri's cheeks go red. Right, he'd always used the gender neutral “them” on the rare occasion that Otabek brought this topic up.

 

He curses himself for slipping up. “Yeah...I suppose I never specified, did I? Oops.” This is starting to feel almost painfully awkward. He and Otabek had never really flat out stated their sexual orientations to each other, weirdly enough, but he hadn't really ever felt the need to hide himself, anyway, so he doesn't really think Otabek is all that surprised. “But, yeah. He's a guy,” he finishes awkwardly, fiddling with his hair.

 

“ _Not that it matters, really, but that's, uh...good to know. Anyway, are you...okay? Y'know, not talking to him...”_

 

Yuri swallows hard. “Not much I can really do, he's...seeing someone else, now, anyway, so...” He feels like he's swimming in dangerous waters, now, where a slipup could happen any second. He needs to be careful.

 

“ _Ah,”_ Otabek hums, biting his lip. _“I'm sorry, that must be...really hard on you, if you still...like him like that,”_ he continues, fiddling with his hair.

 

“I...think I always will,” Yuri admits, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “But I'll live. Maybe someday I'll move on, but...right now, I don't know, I guess. _Anyway_ , that's enough about my nonexistent love life―I saw on Instagram that Alfia got a dog, huh?”

 

Otabek nods. _“Yeah, she rescued him from a shelter. He's very sweet.”_

 

Yuri internally sighs in relief that Otabek accepted the change in subject. “I'm sure you love him, hmm?” Yuri questions, a smile pulling at his lips.

 

Otabek rolls his eyes. _“You know I love all dogs, Yura, what kind of question is that?”_

 

“Wow, maybe dial back the sass a little, yeah?” Yuri teases. Makkachin raises his fluffy head again, nudging Yuri's arm with his nose, and he grins. “Beka, Makkachin says hi, and he says you better not love Alfia's dog more than you love him.”

 

“ _I love all dogs equally, Makkachin,”_ Otabek coos, and Makkachin wags his tail happily.

 

“Hey, you, don't just accept that bullshit,” Yuri tells the dog, humor in his tone. “You should wanna be number one, dumbass.”

 

Makkachin licks his nose, making Otabek laugh. _“Makkachin understands that I have plenty of dog love to go around, don't you boy?”_

 

“I can't believe you're siding with him,” Yuri grumbles to Makkachin, though he scratches his head anyway. “See if you get any more treats from me.”

 

“ _That's cold, Yura.”_

 

Yuri shrugs. “That's life.”

 

“ _I'll give you all the treats you want when I visit, boy,”_ Otabek promises the dog.

 

“You're gonna make him fat,” Yuri sighs.

 

“ _We can take him for walks to make up for it.”_

 

“Ah, so you're sucking me into it, too?” he questions.

 

Otabek grins. _“Damn right.”_

 

There's a knock on Yuri's door, and he calls for whoever it is to come in. It's Viktor, coming to get Makkachin so he can let him out one last time for the night. “Who are you talking to?” he asks, the nosy old bastard.

 

“Beka,” Yuri answers. “Take the dog and shoo, old man.”

 

Viktor looks offended at that. “Why can't you be as nice to me as you were when you were drunk?” he laments, causing Yuri's cheeks to color in embarrassment.

 

“I thought I told you to never speak of that night again,” Yuri groans, burying his face in his pillow and hoping that maybe it'll smother him so he doesn't have to hear anything else about that embarrassing night.

 

“I held your hair while you threw up and _then_ I even washed it for you, so I think that gives me the right to talk about it all I want,” Viktor counters, grinning. Leaning in so that he's in view of the webcam, he waves. “Hi, Otabek!”

 

Otabek laughs. _“Hello, Viktor.”_

 

“When are you going to visit us? Yurio's been going on and on about wanting you to see the house,” Viktor tells him, grinning.

 

“Oh my _god_ you're so fucking embarrassing, please get out,” Yuri begs.

 

Viktor reaches down to ruffle his hair, the infuriating bastard. “Alright, alright, come on Makkachin, let's go outside.” The dog follows him as he moves toward the door, but he stops before leaving the room. “It's late, Yurio, and you got up very early today, so don't stay up too much later, okay? You need your rest.”

 

Yuri rolls his eyes. “Yes, _dad_ ,” he says sarcastically.

 

“Goodnight, son!” Viktor trills before leaving the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

 

“I swear to god, he makes me want to strangle him sometimes,” Yuri mutters. “Sorry about that.”

 

Otabek's laughter is like music to his ears. _“It's fine, I thoroughly enjoyed that exchange,”_ he replies.

 

“Of course you did,” Yuri grumbles. “Anyway...tell me about your week.”

 

“ _It hasn't been that eventful, really,”_ Otabek shrugs.

 

Yuri rolls his eyes. “Don't care, I wanna hear about it anyway.”

 

His best friend chuckles. _“Alright, if you insist.”_

 

Yuri listens to him talk about the new workouts he's trying, the new places he's found while riding his bike, the meals he's cooked himself, the playlist he's putting together...he takes it all in, glad to hear everything Otabek wants to tell him. He thinks he could probably listen to Otabek talk about himself forever, since Yuri knows he doesn't really do it often or with just anyone―it makes him feel special, to have Otabek let him in like this.

 

“ _Yura,”_ comes the soft voice when his eyes start to droop, instantly making them snap open once more. He can't help it, really―Otabek's voice is soothing. _“You're falling asleep. We can talk more tomorrow, please go to bed.”_

 

“Don't wanna,” Yuri mumbles, yawning. “I'm fine, I can keep talking.”

 

Otabek's face softens. _“Don't be so stubborn. I'm free all day tomorrow, so we can talk whenever you want. Alright?”_

 

Yuri sighs, trying (and failing) to hold back another yawn. “Alright, that's fine I guess. Sorry I ruined our conversation by being sleepy,” he says, scratching the back of his head and reluctantly sitting up.

 

“ _Don't apologize, you've had a busy week and your body is probably still adjusting to the time difference,”_ Otabek replies, understanding as ever.

 

“I suppose you're right,” Yuri shrugs. He bites his lip. “Well...goodnight, then. I'll text you when I wake up or something, and we'll go from there.”

 

“ _Sounds good. Goodnight, Yura, sleep well.”_

 

The call ends, and Yuri slowly shuts his laptop setting it aside. He's glad they'd gotten to video chat―he doesn't see his best friend's face nearly enough, so video chatting is always a treat.

 

_I get to see him in person in two weeks,_ he reminds himself, feeling a little giddy. He's glad, because Otabek's been acting kind of strange for the last couple months, and he wants to know what's going on. He knows his best friend too well not to notice, and he'd be lying if he said he isn't a little worried about him. Much like Yuri himself, Otabek isn't really the type to talk about how he's feeling―he'd explained to Yuri once that it's because he's scared of burdening others. And even though Yuri had told him that he'd never, ever be burdening him by confiding in him, he knows it's still hard for Otabek to come to him when something's going on. So Yuri hopes that being there with him will allow him to open up about whatever's on his mind, because Yuri doesn't want him facing whatever it is alone.

 

_I'll get to the bottom of it,_ he tells himself as he switches his lights off, climbing back into bed and pulling the covers over himself. He lets his eyes fall shut, and he slips into a dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks fly by before he knows it. Between exploring Hasetsu more than he's ever had the chance to before, helping Viktor and Yuuri around the house and spending time with the Nishigoris and Katsukis, Yuri barely has the time to even think about his impending trip to Almaty. He likes being so busy―it makes it easier to properly settle into life in his new home, letting him get used to everything, but he thinks that taking a break from it all to see Otabek will definitely be welcome.

 

Before he knows it, he's being dropped off at the airport, getting ready to board his plane.

 

“Don't forget to call us when you land,” Yuuri reminds him, fussing with Yuri's hair.

 

“And tell Otabek we said hello, too,” Viktor adds, grinning.

 

“Alright, alright, I need to go,” Yuri groans, batting Yuuri's hands away from his head. “Don't worry about me, just enjoy having the house to yourselves for two weeks, yeah?”

 

“Oh we will, don't worry,” Viktor says with a wink, and Yuri fake-gags.

 

Yuuri lightly smacks his husband's chest, rolling his eyes. “Ignore him, Yurio. Anyway, just...have fun, and call us if you need anything at all, okay? Try not to think too much and just enjoy your time there,” he says sweetly, offering a smile.

 

“...I will. Thanks, Yuuri,” he replies, fighting the smile that's trying to break out.

 

“Can we please have a hug?” Viktor asks, and this thirty year old man is deadass giving him _puppy dog eyes_ right now.

 

Rolling his eyes, Yuri does his best to ignore his embarrassment as he opens his arms, looking away. “Fine,” he grumbles, and the two of them literally pounce, squeezing him and kissing his cheeks like the embarrassing not-dads they are. “Why are you two like this?” he laments, though he doesn't struggle to get free like he might've―no, definitely would've―in the past. He endures it, letting them be embarrassing, because he knows they're just showing him they care.

 

“Because you're our precious little darling son whom we love dearly and we're going to miss you very much while you're in Kazakhstan,” Viktor answers like it's the simplest thing in the world and _not_ embarrassing as fuck.

 

“Except I'm not actually your son,” Yuri points out, but he can't deny the warmth he feels in his chest.

 

“Just let him have this, Yurio,” Yuuri tells him, grinning.

 

“You two just need to hurry up and have kids of your own so you can stop directing all of your fatherly impulses toward me,” he grumbles.

 

They let him go, soft smiles on their faces. “We'd like to, but...not right now. Maybe someday, after I've retired from figure skating,” Yuuri answers, brown eyes impossibly soft. Viktor wraps an arm around him, kissing his temple, and Yuuri leans into him immediately, smile widening.

 

Sometimes, looking at them makes Yuri's chest ache. Not in a bad way―mostly just because it's clear that they love each other more than anything, and he's happy for them. As annoying as they are, they're both good people, and they deserve all the happiness in the world. He's sure they'll make incredible fathers when the time comes―that child will, without a doubt, have all the love they could possibly want or need.

 

“You'd better get going, it's almost time for you to board,” Viktor says a moment later, reaching out to ruffle Yuri's hair. “Have fun with Otabek, alright? We love you.”

 

Biting his lip, Yuri pulls them in for another hug, feeling them stiffen in shock. “I love you idiots too,” he says quietly, hiding his face in their shoulders.

 

“Yurio...!” Viktor gasps, squeezing him tight.

 

“Don't embarrass him, Viktor,” Yuuri whispers, which does nothing but embarrass Yuri anyway. “Have a safe trip, Yuri,” he says a little louder, stroking Yuri's hair.

 

They let him go, thankfully say nothing about his reddened cheeks, and then he heads toward the gate with a wave. They watch him go, holding each other around the waist, looking every bit like the parents they try to be to him. They're still practically glowing from his admission, and Yuri thinks maybe it was worth the embarrassment to say it. It's been a journey, getting this far and this comfortable when it comes to being more transparent, but he's finally getting to a place where he wants the people he loves to know without a doubt how he feels. It's probably going to be awkward for a while longer, but he thinks he can probably deal with that.

 

Letting people know how important they are to him and seeing the joy it brings them makes all the embarrassment feel like a small price to pay.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i mostly focused on showing yuri's personal growth in this one. also, writing yuri and mila's goodbye made me cry like a damn baby, so there's that :')
> 
> sorry i didn't reply to every comment!! i read them all tho and honestly yall are the best, kindest readers a girl could ask for, so thank you so much for your kind words everyone!! i appreciate it a lot, really
> 
> this fic is getting closer and closer to the end, yall, so i hope you'll all continue to stick with me a little longer :')
> 
> [tumblr](http://nikiforohv.tumblr.com) | [buy me a coffee if u want](https://ko-fi.com/A11213PY)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't believe how fast these chapters are flying out of me yall holy shit
> 
> this chapter is 90% otabek and yuri being schmoopy best friends honestly, so enjoy!!

As always, they greet each other with a hug.

 

The second Yuri steps out of the gate and sees Otabek there, waiting, he starts to run. Otabek catches him as he always does, and they stay like that for a small eternity, taking in each other's presence once more.

 

“I missed you so much,” Otabek tells him, burying his face in Yuri's shoulder.

 

“It hasn't been that long since we last saw each other,” is all Yuri can say, overwhelmed by how relieved Otabek sounds to see him.

 

“Felt like forever,” Otabek insists. “Always does.”

 

“You're a fucking sap,” Yuri whispers, the words catching on the lump rising in his throat. “But I missed you too, idiot,” he admits, letting his eyes fall shut. There's nothing else in the world that puts him at ease the way Otabek's hugs do, he's absolutely sure of it.

 

“I know,” his best friend replies simply, and Yuri can practically hear his smile.

 

“No need to sound so sure of yourself, bastard,” Yuri grumbles.

 

Otabek lets go, and Yuri immediately wants to pull him back in―he's not done, dammit. “You look tired, Yura,” he observes, ruffling Yuri's hair with a big, warm hand.

 

“Taking an afternoon flight wasn't my brightest idea,” Yuri sighs, rubbing his cheek. “I should've taken an evening one so I could sleep all night instead of being up all day. My body thinks it's 2 am right now.”

 

“Let's get back to my place so you can sleep, then,” he says, taking Yuri's carry-on bag. Yuri's too tired to argue or insist he can carry it himself, so he just follows Otabek to baggage claim so he can get the rest of his luggage and get out of there.

 

“Alfia let me borrow her car, so we don't have to worry about getting a cab,” Otabek tells him once they're outside.

 

Yuri yawns. “That was nice of her,” he answers, rubbing at his eyes. “I'm surprised she didn't just come with you to pick me up so she wouldn't have to lend you her car.”

 

Otabek shrugs. “She's the one who suggested lending me her car.” They stop next to a little black hatchback, not quite new but not exactly old either, and Otabek unlocks the doors, packing Yuri's things into the back seat. Yuri gets in, the tiredness seeping deep into his bones, and buckles his seatbelt. Otabek gets in, starts the car, and then they're headed toward his apartment.

 

Yuri doesn't even realize he's fallen asleep until a gentle hand is shaking him awake. His eyes crack open, finding Otabek shooting him an amused look. “Come on, sleepy, lets get you in bed,” he murmurs.

 

Yuri groans. “Don't wanna move, just leave me here.”

 

“Don't make me carry you inside, Yura,” he threatens, ruffling Yuri's hair before getting out to grab the luggage out of the back. “Come on, you know it's not that far,” he coaxes, and with another groan, Yuri makes himself get out of the car, blinking blearily.

 

They head inside, taking the stairs up to Otabek's second-floor apartment, and Yuri's feet drag tiredly the whole time. When they make it inside, he digs through his luggage for his bag of toiletries and a pair of pajama pants to change into, excusing himself to the bathroom once he finds them. Tired or not, he has his skin care routine to complete.

 

When that's all done, he emerges from the bathroom, fresh-faced with his hair in a messy bun. He finds Otabek waiting for him, wearing pajamas now as well, and Yuri offers a tired smile. “I feel much better now,” he announces, plopping down next to Otabek on the couch.

 

“Ready for bed?” Otabek asks.

 

Yuri shakes his head. “I feel more awake now, we should watch a movie or something.”

 

Otabek fixes him with a dubious stare. “Yuri, if I put a movie on, you and I _both_ know you're going to fall asleep halfway through. Maybe even before that, judging by how exhausted you are.”

 

“No way, I'm fine,” he insists, crossing his arms stubbornly.

 

Otabek sighs, shaking his head with an amused smile. “I don't believe you at all, but if you insist, then fine,” he concedes.

 

“I swear I'll make it through the movie and make you eat your words, Beka,” Yuri grumbles as Otabek gets up to put a movie on. Yuri watches as he digs through his collection of old VHS tapes, mouth falling open when he sees Otabek grab _The Aristocats_ from the shelf. “We're watching _The Aristocats_?” he asks, childish excitement bubbling up inside of him.

 

Otabek glances over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “It _is_ your favorite, isn't it?”

 

“You know me so well,” Yuri tells him, grabbing the afghan draped over the back of Otabek's couch and unfolding it so he can pull it over himself as Otabek fiddles with the VCR, popping the tape in. “I swear, though, you're the only person I know who still has a VCR,” he teases.

 

“I have a lot of VHS tapes, it'd be a waste not to have something to watch them on,” Otabek retorts. The movie previews begin to play, and Otabek returns to the couch. “Share the blanket,” he says, nudging Yuri.

 

Yuri pretends to make a fuss, sighing dramatically as he lifts the side of the blanket so Otabek can slide under, but his breath catches in his throat when the action causes Otabek to move closer, pressed right up against his side so that it covers them both completely.

 

Despite his words about not feeling that tired, Yuri can embarrassingly feel his eyes starting to get heavy when they're around twenty minutes into the movie. “I told you so,” Otabek says softly, sighing in amusement.

 

“'m fine,” Yuri tells him, head drooping to rest on his best friend's shoulder. “Just wanna rest my eyes for a few minutes, then I'll be good.”

 

“Whatever you say, Yura,” Otabek chuckles.

 

Ignoring him, Yuri lets his eyes fall shut―he figures he'll take a quick power nap, and then he'll be up in time to watch the end of the movie.

 

His eyes don't open again for the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 

Yuri wakes up the next morning with a crick in his neck from sleeping sitting up, alone on the couch with Otabek nowhere in sight and a notification on his phone telling him Otabek's tagged him in a photo on Instagram. Instantly wary of what it could be, he blinks a few times to try and clear the sleep from his eyes and opens the app, mouth falling open when he sees a photo of him, sleeping with his head of Otabek's shoulder and his mouth hanging open very unattractively, while Otabek looks into the camera with the smallest of smirks on his face.

 

_**otabek-altin** Yuri, an hour ago: I'm not going to fall asleep!! Just put the movie on it's fine Yuri, forty minutes ago: Okay I'm just going to rest my eyes for a few minutes, I'll wake up before the movie is over #helied #outcold_

 

“I'm going to murder him,” Yuri groans, locking his phone and letting it fall into his lap.

 

“I got you food, yet you want to kill me?” comes a voice from the doorway. Yuri turns, finding Otabek kicking his shoes off, a folded brown bag in his hand―somehow, he hadn't heard him come in.

 

“You deserve it for posting that picture on Instagram,” Yuri grumbles, pulling the blanket over his head.

 

“Fair enough,” Otabek answers lightly, plopping the bag of food onto Yuri's lap and sinking down beside him. “You should probably eat before murdering me, though. It's from the deli down the street, they make really good sandwiches.”

 

Yuri opens the bag and ravenously starts to eat the sandwich Otabek had gotten for him―he isn't even really sure what's on it, only that he's hungry and it tastes good―and fixes Otabek with the best stink-eye he can muster. “Once I eat this, you're in trouble,” he tells him, the words muffled by the food in his mouth that he's yet to swallow.

 

Otabek hums. “Scary,” he teases.

 

Yuri ignores it. “Where did you go? Other than to the deli, obviously,” Yuri asks, this time swallowing his food first.

 

“I took Alfia her car, and then she drove me back,” he replies.

 

“Oh. You should've woken me up so I could go say hello, I haven't seen her in a while,” Yuri sighs. “I wanted to thank her for lending you her car so you could pick me up last night.”

 

Otabek snorts. “Yura, I'm pretty sure even an earthquake wouldn't have woken you up. You were practically dead to the world when I left. I wanted to let you sleep, anyway, you were exhausted.”

 

Yuri grumbles something unintelligible, taking another bite of his sandwich.

 

Otabek laughs at him, shaking his head. “If you want to see her that badly, we can go to the rink to skate sometime this week, I'm sure she'll be there,” he says, folding his arms behind his head and kicking his feet up onto his coffee table. “But for today, I think we should just hang around here, you need a day to recharge.”

 

Yuri salutes him. “Works for me.”

 

After eating, Yuri gets up to shower while Otabek tidies up. After that, they spend most of the day just loafing around and watching videos on YouTube. Later that night, they play board games and eat pizza they'd ordered. All in all, it's an uneventful day, but Yuri enjoys it anyway―he and Otabek rarely get a chance to just sit around and do nothing together, since most of their meetings are during competitions. It feels like a normal friendship, and he wishes it could be like this all the time.

 

At the end of the night, they watch another movie, and Yuri manages to stay up for the whole thing this time. When it's over, Otabek blows up the air mattress for him, popping it into its metal frame, and after laying down in their respective beds, they spend the next hour or so talking about everything and nothing, only stopping when their yawns become too frequent to continue while their eyes droop lower and lower.

 

They mumble their goodnights, and Yuri falls asleep feeling happier than he has in a long time.

 

* * *

 

They spend the next couple days exploring the city, Otabek taking Yuri to places he hadn't gotten the chance to see before. They shop a little, and Yuri can't help but buy a few things for Yuuri, Viktor and even for the triplets. Otabek takes him to museums one day, too, and it's nice―in some ways, it feels almost like a...date, even though he knows it isn't. A guy can dream, he supposes.

 

Weirdly, Otabek doesn't seem to talk to Alfia at all, nor does he even bring her up. The only time they talk about her is when Yuri asks about her, which feels...off, for some reason. He knows he'd told Otabek to tell her he was going to borrow him for the time he's in Almaty, but...he really hopes he's not the thing keeping them apart―he'd feel awful if that was the case. After all, Alfia really is a sweet girl, and he doesn't mind being around her, all irrational jealousy aside. He's trying to get better with that, anyway.

 

As they're clearing the table after dinner on the third night, after getting home from visiting the museums, Yuri brings it up. “Hey, I'm not the reason Alfia hasn't been around, am I? I really don't mind if she hangs out with us, Beka,” he says, brow crinkling. “She doesn't have to like...stay away while I'm here, that's not fair to her.”

 

“Oh, well...” Otabek rakes a hand through his hair, shrugging his shoulders. “She said she wanted to let us spend as much time alone as possible, since you're only here for a week and a half,” he finishes, not looking at Yuri as he speaks.

 

That's...fishy.

 

Yuri gives him the benefit of the doubt, though. “Well, tell her that I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm not going to monopolize her boyfriend. Let's go to the rink tomorrow, yeah? Make sure you let her know we'll be there.” He's determined to actually be her friend, if she's going to date his best friend for the forseeable future―even if it's hard, he wants to make an effort. Who knows, maybe it'll make it easier on him if he continues to see how good they are together.

 

Well...it probably won't, but he's gotta at least try it.

 

“If you insist,” Otabek answers a moment later, pulling out his phone. Yuri watches him type something before stuffing it back into his pocket, heading over to the sink to start on the dishes.

 

Not wanting to sit around just watching him clean, Yuri follows. “You wash, I dry?” he offers, smiling crookedly.

 

“Yura, no, you're a guest,” Otabek argues.

 

Yuri rolls his eyes. “I'm your best friend, I don't think I count as a guest. Stop being stubborn and let me feel useful.”

 

Sighing in reluctant acceptance, Otabek gives in. There's a ghost of a smile on his lips. “You're the stubborn one here,” he says softly, filling the sink with water and dish soap.

 

“Maybe,” Yuri concedes. “But I wouldn't be me if I wasn't stubborn.”

 

“That's true,” Otabek laughs. “You're stubborn as a mule, but I wouldn't change you even if I could. You're perfect, just the way you are.”

 

Against his will, Yuri feels his cheeks heat up. Hastily, he leans his head forward so that his hair slides to cover the redness of his cheeks. “Sap,” he mutters, glancing over to look at his best friend out of the corner of his eye. Thinks maybe his eyes are playing tricks on him, because Otabek's cheeks look a bit red, too.

 

“I wouldn't be me if I wasn't sappy,” Otabek parrots, nudging Yuri's side with his elbow.

 

Feeling his lips curl into a grin as laughter bubbles up his throat, Yuri gently shoves him with his hip. “Fuckin' smartass,” he says under his breath, taking the clean plate Otabek holds out to him and drying it off with a dry cloth.

 

Otabek just hums, that unrestrained grin that Yuri loves so much turning up the corners of his mouth and exposing straight white teeth.

 

 _I'm so fucking far gone for this asshole,_ Yuri thinks to himself as he looks down at the plate in his hands, continuing to rub it with the cloth even though it's already dry. That smile could put the sun to shame with how blinding it is, he's sure. It's almost offensive, really, for one person to be so goddamn gorgeous.

 

“Y'know, I think that plate is dry now, Yura,” Otabek observes, laughter in his tone.

 

“It's dry when I say it's dry,” Yuri mutters, biting his lip. He clears his throat, placing the plate in the rack beside the sink. “It's, uh...dry, now,” he coughs, a little embarrassed.

 

Otabek laughs outright at that, handing Yuri a glass to dry. “Glad I have someone so thorough drying my dishes,” he teases.

 

“I don't do anything halfway,” Yuri retorts, taking the glass and getting to work rubbing it dry. “You _should_ be glad.”

 

“I am,” Otabek says, and for some reason, his voice has gone soft. “I'm...really glad you're here,” he continues, warmth in his eyes.

 

“...well, I'm sure your dishes wouldn't be this dry otherwise. You usin' me for my skills?” Yuri asks, and goddammit, he's flustered as fuck right now. How can Otabek just say shit like that and expect him _not_ to combust right then and there?

 

“You caught me,” Otabek replies, but the softness is still present in his tone, in the crinkle of his eyes and in the tenderness of his smile.

 

“Knew it,” Yuri mumbles, heart beating way too fast.

 

One of these days, Otabek will be the death of him―he's sure of it.

 

* * *

 

Alfia is waiting for them in the parking lot when they arrive at the rink the next day. Her long chocolate brown curls are pulled into a high ponytail, green eyes sparkling when she rushes over to greet them as Otabek parks his bike. Yuri hops off, pulling his helmet off and shaking out his hair.

 

“Yuri! It's been a while!” she says in greeting, and now that she's closer, he can see a light dusting of freckles across her cheeks that hadn't been there before. He figures she must be the type to get freckles as soon as summer hits―for some reason, it doesn't surprise him.

 

“It has,” he replies, a little awkwardly. “How have you been?”

 

“Busy,” she answers with a laugh, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “I started an apprenticeship with a local artist, so that's been keeping me quite occupied,” she continues. “What about you? I saw on Instagram that you recently moved to Japan, that must be exciting!”

 

“It's...different,” he replies with a laugh, scratching the back of his head. “Not a bad different, though―Hasetsu's a nice place to live.”

 

“You have a good attitude,” she tells him, smiling. “I'm sure it wasn't easy to make such a big change, but it's good to be positive about it.”

 

“We should get inside,” Otabek cuts in.

 

Alfia nods good-naturedly. “The kids are just finishing their class right now, and then we're free to use the ice as long as we want.” She turns her attention back to Yuri, cheeks going a little red. “I'm not the best skater, so try not to laugh at me _too_ much, okay?”

 

Yuri snorts. “You're dating your country's best figure skater and you still can't skate that well? Beka's clearly been slack in teaching you,” he jokes.

 

Something flickers in Alfia's eyes before she's letting out a little laugh in response. “He most definitely has,” she replies.

 

Yuri nudges Otabek with his elbow. “Be a good boyfriend and teach your girlfriend to properly skate, yeah?”

 

“...yeah, okay,” Otabek answers after a weirdly long pause.

 

Yuri's brow furrows. Seriously, what is going on?

 

Maybe they'd been fighting? That would explain Otabek's aversion of sorts to bringing her up as well as the weirdness in the air, but...then again, she'd lent him her car so he could pick Yuri up from the airport, and she probably wouldn't have done that if they were actually fighting. Unless they'd started fighting in the few days since Yuri had arrived in Almaty?

 

...nah, he's probably just overthinking things. Otabek would've confided in him if there was something going on, he decides. At least, he wants to believe he would, but then again, he knows how Otabek is when it comes to talking about things that are troubling him...

 

Fuck, all this thinking is hurting his head; he's just going to ignore their weirdness for now and enjoy his day, fuck it. If there _is_ a problem, it must not be so bad if they'd willingly met up today to hang out.

 

The three of them head inside, watching as young children scuttle off the ice and into the nearby dressing room. Yuri follows Otabek and Alfia to the area where you rent skates, since he hadn't brought his own with him. Otabek helps him find his size while Alfia waits by the door, both of them already having their own pairs with them.

 

They soon get the okay to head out onto the ice, and Yuri laces his skates as quickly as he can. With how busy he's been lately, he hasn't gotten to skate much―sure, he'd been to the Ice Castle a few times, but not nearly enough for his liking.

 

He ends up being the first one on the ice since he'd rushed, closely followed by Otabek. Alfia takes a little extra time lacing her skates, her fingers not as used to the effort needed to tighten them as his or Otabek's, but she makes it out soon enough, shakily stepping onto the ice and holding the boards for support while she gets her bearings.

 

“You good?” Yuri questions, seeing her shaky legs.

 

“Great,” she replies sunnily. “Don't worry about me, I just need a few minutes to get used to it.”

 

Shrugging, Yuri takes off, doing a few warm-up laps. Otabek follows him, and they take the first couple laps slowly, but then Yuri speeds up with a grin. Otabek follows, accepting the silent challenge, and it quickly turns into a race to see who can skate the fastest. Alfia cheers for them every time they fly past her, her own pace much slower―Yuri doesn't even know how many times they've lapped her already. He wonders if she feels left out?

 

With that thought in mind, he catches Otabek's attention by waving his hand. “Last lap!” he exclaims. “Whoever passes that ad,” he points at a nearby ad for some local restaurant, “first, wins!”

 

“You're on!” Otabek grins, and then somehow, they're pushing themselves to go even faster than before.

 

It's close―so close that Yuri isn't quite sure who'd made it there first. Turning toward Alfia, he calls, “Hey, Alfia, did you see you passed that line first?”

 

“It was pretty close,” she calls back, “but it was you, Yuri!”

 

Yuri pumps a fist in the air in victory, while Otabek groans, stopping against the boards to catch his breath. “Damn you and your longer legs,” he mutters.

 

Yuri grins, stopping beside him. “Don't blame it on my long, beautiful legs, Beka―blame it on your old age,” he teases.

 

“I'm not even old,” Otabek laments, shaking his head.

 

“That sounds like something an old person who's trying to cling to their youth would say,” Yuri counters, poking his friend in the side.

 

Otabek rolls his eyes, but he's laughing. “You know I can lock you out of my house, right?”

 

Yuri shrugs. “You wouldn't,” he replies simply.

 

“Yeah, you're probably right,” Otabek acquiesces, sighing.

 

“Beka tries to be tough, but he's just a big old softie who's incapable of denying the people he loves anything when it comes down to it,” Alfia says from behind them. Yuri turns, finding her looking at them with a tender, yet somehow sad, smile.

 

“True,” Yuri says in agreement. “Careful, Beka, some people might take advantage of that if you aren't careful.”

 

“I think I'll be alright,” Otabek tells him, snorting.

 

“Whatever you say, tough guy,” Yuri laughs, shaking his head.

 

They play around on the ice after that, Otabek and Yuri doing jumps here and there and Alfia clapping in delight when they land them or laughing hysterically when they fall flat on their asses. It's...nice, Yuri thinks, hanging out with her. Out of all the people in the world, Yuri's glad that she's the one Otabek chose to date. She's remarkably easy to get along with, after all, and it's clear to see that she has a big heart.

 

“Okay, I think that's enough skating for me,” Alfia announces after they've been skating for around forty-five minutes, wincing. “My feet are _killing_ me right now, I'm not going to torture them any further.”

 

Yuri's nose wrinkles. “Yeah, skating fucking sucks when you aren't used to standing on skates,” he replies sympathetically. “Should we just call it a day?”

 

She shakes her head rapidly. “No no, don't stop on my account! I'm content just to watch, you two have fun,” she assures him, green eyes bright. “I'll just sit in the stands for a bit and let you two impress me with your skills,” she winks, already headed toward the exit.

 

Yuri looks to Otabek, who just shrugs. “I'm fine to keep going if you are,” he tells him.

 

“Yeah, I'm still good,” Yuri answers. He feels a little bad that Alfia's just gonna sit and watch them, but she'd said she doesn't mind, so he supposes it'll be okay.

 

They skate around side by side in companionable silence for a few moments until Yuri speaks. “Have you started thinking about your routines for next season?” he asks.

 

Otabek hums noncommittally. “A bit. I have some music in mind, but I haven't run it by my coach yet. I still have a couple weeks to do that, though, so I'm not too worried,” he replies. “What about you?”

 

“Apparently Viktor already has all my music, and he's started working on choreography, though he hasn't let me see it yet,” Yuri shrugs. “I trust him, I'm sure whatever he has in mind will be just fine.”

 

Otabek chuckles. “It's weird to think about the fact that he actually retired this time,” he comments. “I don't know, I guess I just kind of saw him as a permanent fixture in competitions, even though he did take that one year off.”

 

“I honestly didn't think he'd do it so soon,” Yuri admits. “Figured the old bastard would stretch his career out as long as he possibly could. I guess I can sort of understand, though―he wanted to end on a high note. To be honest, I have this weird feeling that this is gonna be Yuuri's last year. I think they really want to start a family soon, and I know they wanna be able to devote all of their time to that. Well, I mean, I know Viktor will keep coaching me, but...I dunno, I don't think that Yuuri wants to have to devote time to training if they have a kid to take care of, y'know?”

 

“Yeah, I understand that,” Otabek nods, scratching his cheek. “Well, there are worse reasons to retire, I suppose. I think they'll be great dads.”

 

Without really meaning to, Yuri smiles. “Yeah,” he says softly, “I think they will, too.”

 

Otabek nudges him, grinning. “Guess that will make you a big brother then, won't it? You ready for that responsibility?”

 

Yuri rolls his eyes. “I'm not even their son.”

 

“They seem to think you are,” Otabek points out.

 

“...yeah, I know,” Yuri sighs. “Fuckin' weirdos.”

 

“I think it's nice,” Otabek hums. “They really care about you, Yura.”

 

Yuri bites his lip, trying not to smile. “I know they do, and...as dumb and annoying as they are, I care about those idiots, too.”

 

“I'm glad you aren't trying to hide it anymore, not that you were really any good at it in the first place,” Otabek teases. “It's...good to be honest with yourself.”

 

“I've...done a lot of growing up lately, I guess,” Yuri tells him. “I've decided that I want to start trying to be more honest with myself and others. Life's too fuckin' short to keep pretending I don't care about shit, y'know?”

 

“I'm proud of you,” Otabek says sincerely. “You've come a long way from the snappy kid I became friends with, Yuri.”

 

Yuri flushes under the praise. “Thanks, Beka,” he replies, looking down at his skates in embarrassment. “I can't really take all the credit, though―I have a lot of really awesome people looking out for me, after all. I don't know if I could've gotten to this point on my own.”

 

“I think you deserve to give yourself a little more credit than that,” Otabek tells him, raising an eyebrow. “I'm sure you would've figured it out on your own eventually.”

 

“I don't know about that,” Yuri laughs. “Anyway, enough with the embarrassing talk about me. We should entertain Alfia, shouldn't we? She must be bored watching us skate in circles...”

 

“I suppose you're right,” Otabek answers.

 

Yuri grins. “You get started on that, I'm just gonna run to the washroom real quick.”

 

Otabek nods. “Remember where it is?”

 

“Yeah, don't worry. I'll be back in a minute,” Yuri replies, dashing off toward the exit. He gets his skates off quickly, sitting them by the bench, then heads off in the direction of the bathroom.

 

As he's exiting the bathroom a moment later, he's stopped by Alfia, who's shifting a little nervously, clearing having been waiting for him for whatever reason. “Yuri?” she questions. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

 

Yuri raises a brow, wondering what she could possibly want to talk to him about, and figuring he'd only know if he let her continue. “Sure,” he answers. “What is it? I'm all ears.”

 

She swallows hard, leaning against the wall. “Look, I know you're a smart person, so surely you've noticed by now that things are a little...weird, between Beka and I.”

 

Yuri bites his lip, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I thought things seemed a little off, but I didn't wanna pry or anything. Your relationship isn't really my business, after all, it's something that's between the two of you...”

 

“Our relationship, huh?” She smiles sadly. “So he really didn't tell you after all. I thought so, which is why I waited here for you, but I wasn't actually sure until now.”

 

“Huh? Tell me what?” he asks, thoroughly confused.

 

“Yuri, Beka broke up with me almost three months ago.”

 

Yuri blinks, staring dumbly for a moment, because... _what_? “You're joking, right?”

 

She shakes her head. There's some moisture in her eyes now. “It's the truth.” She wraps her arms around herself, looking terribly small, and Yuri is filled with the weird urge to hug her. He refrains, mostly because he's too awkward to do it, but it doesn't stop him from feeling like he _should_ “We've been trying to be just friends ever since, but...it's still a little weird right now, and it probably will be for a little while. I'd like to say I'm surprised that it happened, but...to be honest, I saw it coming. I could...I could tell his heart just wasn't in it,” she explains, biting her lip. “I was never going to be the one for him, as much as I wanted to be―it's something I've been learning to accept. It was always going to be someone else.”

 

“Shit, Alfia, I'm so sorry,” he says, because what else can he really say? It's clear that she's heartbroken, and it makes him feel awful for ever wishing they'd break up because _shit_ , she doesn't deserve this.

 

She shakes her head, forcing a smile. “Please, don't apologize. Like I said, I saw it coming. Really, I should've cut it short sooner, but...what can I say? I was foolish, I thought that if I waited it out, then maybe he'd fall for me in the end. Deep inside, though, I always knew that would never happen, so I can only blame myself.” She bites her lip. “The worst part is, I know he felt awful about doing it, and that he still does. Beka has such a big, kind heart; he hates to cause anyone pain, and that can be a good thing for sure, but...sometimes, it just means hurting people even more by drawing things out, y'know? It...would've been easier if he'd been mean about it―but all he could do was apologize to me the whole time. How can I hold it against him when I know that, as pointless as it might've been, he was only trying to keep me from being hurt? His intentions were good, it just...backfired, I guess.” She takes a deep breath, smoothing her shirt. “Anyway, I don't want you to feel bad for me or anything, I just...wanted you to know. I'm sure he wanted to tell you himself, but just...didn't know how. So could you do me a favor and pretend not to know anything for now? If he doesn't bring it up himself soon, then you can let him know I told you, but...I don't want him to be upset right now, he's already quiet enough with me being here...”

 

“I...yeah, okay,” he agrees, still trying to take it all in.

 

“Just make sure you talk to him about it before you go home, alright? It's important that you do,” she tells him, cracking a smile. “There's more he can tell you about it, after all.”

 

He wants to ask what she means by that, but he gets the sense she isn't going to tell him if he does, so instead, he just nods. “Alright...” Swallowing hard, he clears his throat. “Listen, I hope it's not weird of me to ask this, but...can I hug you or something right now? You look like you need it,” he says, cheeks going red.

 

Her mouth falls open. It's obvious she hadn't been expecting him to say that, but she quickly recovers, letting out an airy laugh. “I'd love a hug,” she replies, opening her arms.

 

He reaches out awkwardly, pulling her in, and he figures it could be more awful. It only lasts a few seconds, but clearly it had somehow managed to cheer her up, so he figures that's good enough.

 

“I'm gonna head home, I think,” she announces. “Tell Beka I said goodbye, okay? And...if I don't see you again before you leave, then...it was really nice seeing you again, Yuri. I hope it won't be for the last time,” she says sweetly.

 

“It was nice seeing you too,” he tells her, and he really, really means it. “I'll pass along your goodbye.” He pauses, considering the words he wants to say, and decides to go for it. “Take care of yourself, Alfia. Beka's really missing out, you're a great girl. And, someday...you'll find someone who will appreciate that.”

 

Her eyes crinkle with the smile that pulls at her mouth. “Thanks, Yuri. That means a lot.”

 

He watches as she turns to leave without another word, heading toward the door. Tries to digest everything that he'd just learned. He obviously wants to ask Otabek about it, but he's going to try to respect Alfia's request.

 

He really hopes Otabek will just tell him on his own, but he has a sinking feeling that he won't.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN
> 
> some of yall guessed that they'd already broken up, so like, kudos 2 u guys lmao
> 
> i would love to hear what yall think will happen next!! sorry i didn't get around to replying to comments, i've been super busy with writing and other things and i just haven't had the time :') thank you all for leaving them though, your comments seriously brighten my day so much!!
> 
> the next chapter is over halfway done, so i'll probably see yall again soon B)
> 
> [tumblr](http://nikiforohv.tumblr.com) | [buy me a coffee if u want](https://ko-fi.com/A11213PY)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everything so far has led to this point, yall
> 
> i don't want to say too much, so i'll just let you guys read it for yourselves ♥ i hope you all enjoy!!

A day passes, and Otabek doesn't mention Alfia at all. He takes Yuri on a ride through the countryside on his bike, they watch movies before bed, the usual.

 

Another day passes. They go for a run in the morning, shop some more in the afternoon, and eat out instead of cooking or ordering in. Still no mention of Alfia.

 

Another day is half gone now―the sun is sinking lower in the sky. They'd spent the day lazing around so far, tired after so many days out. Yuri is getting antsy, now; he's only in Almaty for three more days (technically four, he supposes, but he's flying out early on the fourth day so he isn't going to count it), and still, Otabek hasn't said anything to Yuri about his situation with Alfia.

 

She'd told him to talk to Otabek about it before he leaves, and with the deadline looming ever closer, he's accepted that he's going to have to be the one to bring it up. The question, though, is _how_.

 

He looks at the clock. It's almost 7:30, meaning that it's only 6:30 in the morning in Vancouver right now. Mila's probably going to murder him, but...he really just needs to talk to her before going forward, because he'd feel better getting a second opinion first.

 

Otabek is out getting them food, so he should be fine to call her right now. Just in case, though, he heads into the bathroom so that he can turn the shower on at a moment's notice in case Otabek gets home before he finishes talking to Mila.

 

Biting his lip, he finds her name in his contacts and taps it, hitting the call icon and lifting his phone to his ear, waiting anxiously for her to answer. It rings until it goes to voicemail―not surprising, he knows she's a heavy sleeper. Undeterred, he hangs up without leaving a message, immediately calling her again. He figures the sound will get through to her eventually, or Sara will wake up and then wake her up.

 

Right when he thinks he's going to have to call a third time, the ringing stops, and Sara's groggy voice comes through the speaker.

 

“ _I swear to god if you don't have a good reason for calling and waking us both up I'm going to kill you next time I see you,”_ she threatens. He hears Mila's sleepy voice in the background, but can't make out what she's saying.

 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, just please give Mila the phone,” he says, chewing on his lip.

 

He hears a loud sigh, followed by shuffling, and then he hears Mila's voice. _“Yuri?”_ she questions, voice scratchy with sleep. _“Is everything okay?”_

 

“Yes...well, I don't know. I just...really don't know what to do right now, and I feel like a dick for waking you up so early, but I didn't know what else to do,” he tells her, letting out a long breath.

 

He hears the obvious sound of a door clicking shut through the phone, figuring she must've left the room so Sara could go back to sleep. _“You're gonna have to explain what's going on before I can help, Yuri.”_

 

He takes a deep breath. “Okay, well...you ready, then?” He hears an affirmative hum, so he continues. “Alright, so...a few days ago, Beka and I went skating with Alfia. They were both acting super fucking weird, but I did my best to ignore it because, y'know, it's not my place to butt into their shit or whatever. But then at one point I went to the bathroom, and when I came back out, Alfia was waiting outside the door for me. She proceeded to tell me that the reason they were being so weird was because Beka apparently broke up with her like three months ago? And he didn't tell me?”

 

He can practically see her eyes widening. _“No fucking way, are you shitting me?”_

 

“I'm telling the truth,” he replies, sighing. “I feel bad for her honestly, she's really upset. She said that they've been trying to just be friends, but I can tell it's hard on her. She said she saw it coming and that she knew his heart wasn't in it and that it never would be, but she still stuck with him because...honestly, I think she loves him. And I feel like a fucking asshole for ever wanting them to break up, because she doesn't deserve to be so sad. Anyway, she asked me not to bring it up to him right away because she didn't want him to be upset that she told me, so I've been trying to wait for him to tell me himself, but...I'm only here for a few more days, and Alfia was weirdly adamant about me talking to him about it before I leave because apparently there's more that he can tell me. So I just...really have no idea how to bring it up. To be honest, I just...don't even know how to feel about the whole thing, Mila. I know he doesn't like telling other people about his problems, but...I'm his best friend, y'know? It just makes me wonder why he hasn't told me. I mean, I've noticed him acting weird for a while, and now that I think about it...he's been acting weird ever since March, which is when he must've broken up with her since she said it's been three months...”

 

Mila's silent for a moment, and Yuri knows she's trying to choose her words carefully. Finally, she speaks. _“Yuri,”_ she begins slowly, _“I want you to really think about the question I'm about to ask you. What happened in March?”_

 

Yuri's brow furrows. “Well, Worlds, I guess.”

 

Mila hums affirmatively. _“What else?”_ she prompts.

 

“That's...when Beka and I got drunk, too,” he continues, wondering where she's going with this.

 

“ _And there it is. You and Otabek got drunk and were saying super mushy things to each other and kissing each other's cheeks.”_

 

“...what does that have to do with this?” he asks.

 

He hears her sigh. _“Yuri, I know you're not that dumb.”_

 

She can't mean... “Mila, you're not saying he broke up with her because of me...are you?”

 

“ _That's exactly what I'm saying,”_ she replies.

 

“No, there's no way,” he says immediately, shaking his head. No, he can't get his hopes up. “You must still be half asleep, old hag.”

 

He doesn't need to see her to know she's rolling her eyes at him. _“Can you think of any other explanation? Hmm?”_

 

He thinks back to his conversation with Alfia and remembers something she'd said. _It was always going to be someone else._ He'd figured she'd just meant someone far off in the future that Otabek had yet to meet, but maybe...

 

...could she have possibly meant that person was Yuri himself?

 

“ _Yuri, I can practically hear the sound of you thinking right now. Care to share?”_ Mila's voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and he swallows hard, licking his suddenly dry lips.

 

“I just...remembered something Alfia said when we talked. I think...maybe...she was trying to tell me without really telling me that...maybe...” The words catch in his throat―is it...really okay to say them out loud? He's not sure his battered heart can take it if he lets himself say it and turns out to be completely wrong...

 

“ _Maybe what?”_ Mila asks, voice gentle. _“C'mon, kiddo, you can say it.”_

 

He squeezes his eyes shut. “I think she was trying to tell me that she knew she could never be the one for him, because...because I'm the one...that he wants,” he forces out through gritted teeth. At some point, he'd started to shake. “Mila, I thought I was going crazy. All week, he's been...he's been saying these crazy sweet things to me and blushing a lot and just...being _unbearably_ cute. I thought I was imagining it all, or fucking...putting too much meaning into things like I always do, but what if I'm _not_? Mila, I think I'm going to pass out...”

 

“ _Don't do that,”_ she says urgently. _“Breathe for me, yeah?”_

 

He takes deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart, but it's no use―it feels like it might beat right out of his chest. “What the fuck do I do now?” he asks, knowing he sounds desperate and pathetic but he really, honestly can't help it.

 

“ _I think you know what you need to do now,”_ she answers calmly.

 

“I can't,” he breathes, biting his lip. “I can't do it, I'll throw up.”

 

“ _You_ can _, Yuri. You have to. How long have you waited for something like this to happen, hmm? If you leave there without talking to him about this, you're going to regret it. You_ know _it,”_ she tells him. _“Yuri, this is your chance to finally be happy, don't let it slip through your fingers.”_

 

“How would I even bring it up?”

 

“ _Honestly, you need to just straight-up tell him how you feel. Yuri, you know he's never going to bring it up―that's not how he is, he's too shy. You need to take charge here.”_

 

“I don't think you understand exactly how much I can't do that,” he stresses.

 

“ _Yuri, if you want to date him, then he kind of needs to know how you feel.”_

 

“Don't say that, I'm seriously going to throw up,” he warns, already feeling nausea swirling in his gut.

 

“ _Why the cold feet now? Why are you hesitating if you know that he feels the same way?”_ she questions.

 

“ _First_ , we don't even know for sure if he feels that way about me,” he mutters, biting his finger. “And second...fuck, Mila, this shit is easier said than done, don't make it sound so fucking simple. What if I'm completely wrong and I lose him because I made assumptions? I refuse to lose him.”

 

“ _You're being irrational, you're not going to lose him because you're both idiots with big fat idiot crushes on each other and I swear I just want to knock your goddamn heads together right now,”_ she grumbles.

 

“I can't help but be scared, okay? I just...it was easier, saying I wished things could be different when he was still with her, when I thought I didn't have a chance. It fucking sucked, yeah, but it was _safe_. This is...completely new to me, and I just really don't know how to handle this without making a total ass of myself because to be honest I'm about five seconds away from crying right now and I know I'm gonna start to fucking bawl the second I try to say anything to him and he's gonna look at me like I'm insane and I don't _want_ that, I want to be cool and confident and calm instead of...whatever the fuck I am right now,” he explains, taking a shuddering breath and blinking away the tears that are trying to slip out.

 

“ _Yuri, listen to me,”_ she says gently. _“I know it's scary to jump into something you don't know, but he loves you. Don't try to deny it, I know you can see it all now. He loves you, and that's not gonna change if you stumble over your words or cry or whatever it is that you might do when you tell him you love him, too. Because you know what? He's gonna be so focused on the fact that you love him that nothing else is gonna matter, okay? So just...just fuckin' go get him, tiger, I promise it'll all be okay in the end.”_

 

“...are you sure?” he asks, voice small.

 

“ _Positive,”_ she answers immediately. _“Listen, I was so fucking scared when I told Sara how I felt that I literally threw up. But here I am now, living with her, and she doesn't love me any less, even though she teases me about it. It's going to be fine, Yuri.”_

 

“Okay.” The word leaves him in a whisper, and he swallows hard, trying again. “Okay,” he repeats, a little more forcefully this time. “Fuck, I'm gonna...I'm gonna tell him how I feel, as soon as he gets home. I'm gonna fucking do it, Mila.”

 

She laughs. _“Hell yeah you are. You got this, brat, I know it.”_

 

“Thanks, Mila. For answering so early in the morning and not being mad about being woken up and for...talking me through this shit. I fucking love you, you're literally an angel,” he tells her, throwing the bathroom door open and heading out to the main room to wait.

 

“ _Didn't I tell you I'd always be there when you need me no matter how far away I am? Just keeping my word, that's all,”_ she replies, voice soft. _“I love you, you little brat, I'm so fucking proud of you right now.”_

 

“Thanks,” he answers, letting his eyes shut. “I'll let you get back to sleep now, then. I'll talk to you again soon.”

 

“ _I want all the details later!”_ she exclaims. He grudgingly agrees, and the conversation ends. He tucks his phone into his pocket, wiping his sweaty palms on his shirt. He starts to pace, wondering what exactly he should say, and right as he's considering whether or not he should try to take a shower before Otabek gets back, the door opens.

 

“Hey, what's with the pacing?” Otabek asks as he kicks his shoes off, eyebrow raised.

 

At the sound of his voice, Yuri immediately freezes―the tiny amount of courage he'd managed to build up disappears in a flash, and all he can do is just stand there and stare with his mouth hanging open idiotically.

 

Otabek sets the bag of food he's holding aside, slowly creeping toward Yuri with concern in his eyes. “Yuri? What's wrong?” he asks, stopping to stand directly in front of him. His hands hover like he wants to reach out to hold him or something, but uncertainty stops him.

 

“We need to talk,” Yuri chokes out, the words small and timid but _there_ , nonetheless―he knows he needs to do this, no matter how terrified he may be.

 

“...about what?” Otabek asks, biting his lip. His hands begin to fidget nervously with the hem of his shirt, and Yuri thinks that maybe Otabek already knows what he wants to talk about.

 

Yuri swallows hard, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Alfia told me something interesting a few days ago, and I...I've been trying to give you a chance to come to me about it on your own, but _fuck_ , Beka, I leave in like three days and you still haven't said anything so I just...need to talk, and I need you to listen. Can you do that?”

 

“I...yeah,” Otabek breathes, and Yuri hates the way he can see his lower lip starting to tremble. He hates that he's distressing him right now, but he needs to get some things off his chest.

 

He slowly moves to sit on the couch, motioning for Otabek to do the same, and when they're settled, he takes a deep breath and begins to speak. “I can think of a few reasons why you didn't tell me you broke up with her three months ago, so I won't bother asking, but...Beka, I'm not stupid―I'm your best friend, and I know when something is wrong. You've been acting weird for a long time, and I know now that it's been ever since you broke up with her. I didn't say anything when I noticed you starting to act weird, and maybe I should've, but...I don't know, I guess I was hoping you'd just come to me on your own eventually about whatever it was that was bothering you. But you still haven't, and I just...can't wait anymore.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath. Otabek looks like he might start crying any second. “Beka, you're my best friend and I love you, you know that―I would do literally anything for you. I know it's hard for you to tell people when there's something troubling you, and I can relate because it's hard for me, too. I'm trying to get better with that, though, and I need _you_ to start trying too, at least with me, because I'm always going to be there for you no matter what. I know it wasn't your intention to make me feel bad, but...it really sucks knowing you didn't feel like you could come to me and tell me what was going on, Beka. Best friends are supposed to trust each other and tell each other everything, aren't they? This already happened once before when you started dating Alfia and didn't tell me until a month later. And I _know_ it isn't really any of my business what you do, obviously, but...I tell you everything, Beka. Maybe it's wrong of me to expect you to do the same and I'm just making a big deal over nothing, but―”

 

“I'm so sorry,” Otabek cuts in, voice soft. There are tears dripping down his cheeks. “I'm sorry I made you feel that way, Yura, I swear I didn't mean to, I was just...scared, and I let it stop me.”

 

“What were you scared of, Beka?” Yuri prompts, trying to sound as gentle as he can even as his heart starts to beat faster, palms sweating. “If it's about...” His mouth goes dry, and he swallows before he tries to speak again. “If it's about _why_ you broke up with Alfia, well...she kind of gave me a hint of sorts, and I'm not even sure if she meant to, but...I thought about it and with some help from Mila, I think I might've figured it out, so...unless I'm wrong, then I think I know already.”

 

At that, Otabek blanches. “You...know?”

 

Yuri chews on his bottom lip, nodding hesitantly. It's now or never. “I...think that I do, at least. But before I ask you to confirm it, there's something that I really need you to know, something that I've been keeping with you because _I_ was scared,” he replies, and he's seriously starting to worry that he might throw up from how nervous he is.

 

Otabek's gone so pale that Yuri wonders if he's going to be okay. “What is it?” he asks, sounding a little choked up.

 

“Fuck, okay, well...you know how I have that friend? The one I'm in love with, who's seeing someone else? The one you've never seen, _ever_?” Otabek just nods, watching silently with watery brown eyes. A tremor goes through Yuri, and he squeezes his eyes shut in an effort to get a grip on himself, because he's fucking terrified right now and he feels more vulnerable than he ever has in his entire life. “He doesn't exist, Beka. Well, not in the sense that I've led you to believe, at least,” he amends, cracking his eyes open. His hands are shaking, so he slides them up into his hair so that he has something to hold on to. “Fuck, Yuri, just spit it out,” he says under his breath, shaking his head.

 

“...Yura?” Otabek questions, and the last of Yuri's resistance crumbles.

 

“Beka...he's _you_. I'm in love with _you_ , and I've been too scared to tell you because you were dating Alfia and shit, and I just...didn't want to risk making things weird or losing you or something if you didn't feel the same way, y'know? But Alfia told me she knew she could never be the one for you because it was always going to be someone else, and it might be presumptuous as fuck of me to say this, but I was thinking that maybe that 'someone' might be...me? If I'm wrong then I might actually die of embarrassment, so just...feel free to let me know or whatever, and preferably do it within the next few seconds because I'm _kind of_ freaking out for real right now and I'm probably about two seconds away from starting to cry so―”

 

Otabek pulls him in, then, pressing Yuri's face down into his shoulder and just...hugs him for a moment, quieting Yuri's panicked babbling. Yuri can feel Otabek's heart pounding, thinks maybe it's beating just as fast as his own, and wonders what this means. Otabek isn't saying anything at all, and it's kicking Yuri's brain into overdrive.

 

_Why isn't he saying anything?_

 

_Was I wrong after all?_

 

_Is he so quiet because he's just trying to think of some way to let me down gently?_

 

With these thoughts swirling around in his brain, he speaks again. “Beka, please say something,” he begs, voice little more than a choked whisper muffled by Otabek's shoulder, eyes filling with tears. He's just barely holding them back, but he's pretty sure that no matter what Otabek says at this point, it's going to make him cry.

 

“I'm so sorry,” Otabek finally says, and that's it―the fragile hold Yuri has over his tears breaks, and they start to spill hotly down his cheeks to be soaked up by the fabric of Otabek's grey shirt. “I'm so _sorry_ , Yura,” he repeats, stroking soft blond hair, “because I've made you suffer so much, haven't I? I'm the one who's been making you cry all this time, and now I've gone and done it _again_. I'm so stupid, I'm so sorry...”

 

“You couldn't have known,” Yuri cries, shaking his head. “I didn't _want_ you to know, because you had a girlfriend and I wasn't going to try to ruin that for you. But it's only ever been you, Beka, I...fuck, I've never loved anyone else the way I love you and I'm so _sorry_ , I never wanted to because now our friendship is probably ruined because I made stupid assumptions and couldn't control my stupid useless feelings, I'm so _sorry―_ ”

 

“No, Yura, no, no,” Otabek cuts in, tone urgent. “You haven't ruined anything, look at me, please?” Chest heaving with a sob, Yuri slowly pulls out of Otabek's embrace. He must look like a mess right now, but...Otabek's crying, too, eyes red and puffy, and yet somehow, he still looks beautiful to Yuri.

 

Warm, gentle hands cup his face, callused thumbs swiping away his tears, and Otabek leans in, letting their foreheads touch. “I've made a lot of mistakes in the past year or so,” he says quietly, biting his lip, and he bumps their noses together tenderly, making Yuri's breath catch in his throat. “But loving you has _never_ been one of those mistakes, Yuri. My biggest mistake is not seeing that you feel the same way I do, because not only have I made us both suffer unnecessarily, but...I made Alfia suffer, too, when I told her I could never love her the way she deserves to be loved because I'm really just...so unmistakably in love with you, so in love with you that it terrified me because I didn't want to ever risk losing you in case you didn't feel the same so I agreed to go out with her when she asked so that I could run from those feelings, when I really just should've just faced them head on,” he explains, squeezing his eyes shut. “I don't know if I deserve it after the heartache I put you through, but...please, Yuri, forgive me. _Please_. I'll do anything to make it up to you, so just... _please_.”

 

Yuri lets out a shuddering breath, all of the tension in his body leaving with it. “You...idiot,” he whispers, sniffling. “You goddamn _idiot_ , there's nothing to forgive,” he tells him, shaking his head. “I didn't...I didn't even realize how I felt until I found out you were dating her, so it's not like you could've known how I felt, you stupid lovable asshole, we're both fucking _idiots_ ,” he finishes, relieved laughter bubbling up his throat.

 

“Yura?” Otabek questions, eyes opening when he hears Yuri start to laugh.

 

“I'm so...” A sob cuts him off, the tears coming faster, but he's smiling. “...happy,” he continues, wiping his face with his sleeve even though it's pointless because the tears just keep coming even though he's laughing. “I'm so happy,” he repeats, head sliding down to rest on Otabek's shoulder. “I love you,” he breathes, giddy. “I love you, Beka, I love you, I fucking _love_ you―”

 

A hand slides up to take him by the chin as he repeats those words over and over again, lifting his head back up, and then lips touching his own cut him off. _Oh,_ Yuri thinks dazedly, eyes sliding shut, _he's kissing me._

 

“I love you,” Otabek murmurs into the kiss, hands sliding into Yuri's hair, “I love you so _much_ , more than I've ever loved anything...”

 

Yuri's arms wrap around Otabek's waist, and he doesn't really know what he's doing since he's never kissed anyone before, but he thinks this is...really nice. Like, _really_ nice. Otabek's lips are a little chapped but it's okay because they're warm and they're _Otabek's_ and really, that's the main thing here.

 

When Otabek moves to pull away, Yuri follows, not wanting it to end, and Otabek can't seem to help but dive back in, kissing him over and over again until Yuri is dizzy, his head fuzzy but in a good way, and he's holding onto Otabek's shirt like a lifeline while those warm, gentle hands card through his hair, stroking it gently―and once they've finally had their fill (for now, at least), they press their foreheads together, panting, and marvel at the fact that _yes_ , that actually just happened.

 

“I just kissed you,” Otabek breathes, like he can't wrap his head around it.

 

“A lot,” Yuri adds helpfully.

 

“I just kissed you _a lot_ ,” Otabek amends, wheezing out a laugh. “I kissed you a lot, and I just...want to keep kissing you forever, to be honest, but I think my heart might burst if I do that,” he continues, rubbing their noses together. “Yuri? I love you.”

 

“I love you too,” Yuri replies, taking a shuddering breath. “I love you so much, _fuck_ , Otabek, I can't stop saying it, I love you.”

 

“I wish I'd told you when I realized it,” Otabek murmurs, tucking Yuri's hair behind his ear. “I could've saved us _and_ Alfia a lot of heartache, y'know?”

 

“When did you know?” Yuri asks, because he needs to know.

 

“The wedding,” he replies, shaking his head. “I just―all that week, I'd been wondering why I felt so strange and then...when Mila made me dance with her, she asked me if I loved you, and everything just...clicked,” he finishes, and then he's kissing Yuri again, softer this time, like he just couldn't resist.

 

“Sara asked me if I loved you that night,” Yuri breathes. “Said the way I looked at you wasn't the way someone looked at their best friend or something like that. I thought she was fucking crazy, Beka, I really did. I could still barely wrap my head around _friendship_ at that point―romance was _way_ beyond me. But then a few months later you told me you were dating Alfia and it felt like the whole world was crashing down around me and after crying for literal hours I realized that maybe Sara wasn't crazy at all.”

 

“I'm so sorry,” Otabek says softly, brow creasing. “I hate knowing I made you suffer, Yura.”

 

“It's not like you meant to, idiot,” Yuri mutters, reaching up to catch the tear that falls from Otabek's eye. “Don't apologize, it's...in the past now. I'm okay. _We're_ okay, Beka.”

 

“...I love you,” Otabek says again,and Yuri thinks they must both sound like broken records, but he doesn't care because his heart feels so full that he's scared it'll burst because he loves Otabek and Otabek loves him back, and that makes all the heartache he's endured worth it.

 

“I didn't quite catch that,” Yuri teases, biting his lip. “Mind repeating it?”

 

“I love you,” Otabek repeats, leaning forward until Yuri starts to lean back. “I love you,” he says again, taking one of Yuri's hands in his own and bringing it to his lips, and Yuri's heart swells. “I love you,” he says one more time once Yuri's laying flat on the couch, and then they're kissing again and Yuri's free hand is in Otabek's hair while the other one is still wrapped in Otabek's, and Otabek's other hand is on the couch to hold himself up so he doesn't fall on Yuri and Yuri thinks that this must be what heaven is like.

 

Yuri can't help the giddy laughter that rumbles through him, and Otabek pulls away to look down at him with soft brown eyes that are filled with mirth. “Why are you laughing?” he asks, thumb rubbing Yuri's lower lip tenderly.

 

Yuri can't help but press a small kissed to the callused pad of his thumb. “I'm kissing my best friend,” he answers simply. “My best friend is _letting_ me kiss him.” His hands slide down from soft black hair to cup Otabek's jaw, and he feels stubble there even though he knows Otabek had just shaved that morning. “I just feel...really lucky, I guess. I need to thank Mila, because if she hadn't just talked me into it, then...I don't know if this would be happening right now, because you're a big dummy who wouldn't bring up the fact that you broke up with Alfia on your own.”

 

“I'm sorry, I just...really didn't know how, without saying anything about how I feel about you,” Otabek murmurs, leaning into Yuri's hands. “I had this feeling in my gut that told me she told you the other day, but I still couldn't bring myself to bring it up. I mean...I still thought you were in love with someone else, anyway...”

 

Yuri winces. “I'm sorry I lied to you about that, I didn't want to. I just didn't know what else to say, because I wanted to be truthful but I couldn't tell you I was in love with you, so it just...happened, and I've regretted that lie ever since I first told it. Anyway, Alfia told me I needed to talk to you about it before I left, because there was more you could tell me. I understand now what she meant by that,” he explains, stroking Otabek's cheek. “She's a really good person, Beka, trying to make sure her ex boyfriend ends up with the person he left her for. You'd better thank her,” he says sternly, poking him in the nose.

 

“I will,” Otabek promises. “I'd like to thank Mila, too, for taking care of you when you were hurting and also for giving you the courage to tell me how you feel.”

 

Yuri bites his lip, grinning. “Well, I know how we can start,” he tells him, one hand sliding back into Otabek's hair while the other pulls his phone free from his pocket. “They say a picture's worth a thousand words, right?”

 

Slowly, the corners of Otabek's lips turn up. “I needed a new picture for my lock screen, anyway,” he answers, nudging their noses together before he's closing the distance between their lips, kissing Yuri sweetly. Yuri lets his eyes fall shut, allowing himself enjoy it for a moment before he remembers the crucial part they're forgetting.

 

“Wait, Beka, gotta open my camera first,” he mumbles against his lips, because despite his words, he doesn't want to stop.

 

“Just rehearsing,” Otabek murmurs, pressing a kiss to Yuri's nose.

 

“Damn, Beka, you're smooth as hell,” Yuri snorts, trying to ignore how hot his face feels. He's positive that Otabek will be the death of him. Shaking his head, he opens the camera on his phone, letting his finger hover over the shutter button. “Well, you can, um...proceed,” he tells him, clearing his throat.

 

“I love you,” Otabek whispers, pressing their foreheads together and letting their noses bump. Yuri presses down on the shutter, holding it so it'll just take pictures continuously, and then his eyes are sliding shut and they're kissing again, and again, and again.

 

He thinks this is how he wants to die someday, if he has the choice.

 

Otabek's lips move against his own, soft yet insistent, but they don't push too far too fast―he thinks that maybe Otabek senses his inexperience and takes things slow for him, which Yuri appreciates since honestly he has no idea what the fuck he's doing as it is and he can't imagine trying to throw tongues into the mix, too.

 

Yuri lets his phone slip from his hand so he can wrap his arms around Otabek's neck and pull him closer, figuring he'd gotten more than enough pictures and that there were at least a few good ones. “I don't want to say goodbye to you in four days,” Yuri whispers into the kiss.

 

Otabek pulls away, biting his lip. “I'd almost forgotten that you have to leave,” he admits, sitting up. Yuri follows, and Otabek opens an arm to him so he can lean over and rest his head on his shoulder. “I don't want to say goodbye, either,” he tells him, turning his head so he can press a gentle kiss to Yuri's forehead.

 

Yuri chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment. “Well...I know it's sudden, but...do you want to come back to Hasetsu with me for a bit? I know Viktor and Yuuri wouldn't mind, they're always asking me when you're going to visit, and you can see the new house...” He lifts his head, rubbing their noses together tenderly. “It'll at least give us a little more time together,” he finishes.

 

Otabek reaches up to brush Yuri's hair back from his face, brown eyes sparkling. “I'd love to,” he replies, smiling Yuri's favorite smile. “Do you know if your flight is full?”

 

“I can check, and if it is then I'll see if I can switch to a different one,” Yuri tells him. He grabs his phone, pulling up the airline's website. Miraculously, there's a seat open next to his own, and he quickly books it. “Done,” he says, smiling.

 

“I'm happy,” Otabek murmurs, stroking his cheek. “I want to spend as much time with you as I possibly can, Yura.”

 

“This is...going to be hard, isn't it?” Yuri asks, smile turning a little sad.

 

“We'll make it through,” Otabek says with conviction, tightening the arm he has around Yuri's waist. “And someday, when everything settles...then we'll be able to settle down together, so just...promise me you'll stick with me long enough to do that, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Yuri promises, letting his eyes shut as his head falls to rest on Otabek's shoulder again. “I love you,” he adds, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

 

“I love you too,” Otabek replies, laying his head on Yuri's.

 

They stay like that for a moment in silence, just enjoying each other's presence, until Yuri sighs and reaches for his phone again. “Mila will be waking up soon, I'd better send her a picture. Help me pick one?” he asks, glacing over at his boyfriend with a ghost of a smile on his lips.

 

“Sure,” Otabek answers, letting go of Yuri so he can shift positions, laying against the arm of the couch and making space for Yuri to lay against him, settling in between his legs. As soon as Yuri's back hits his chest, Otabek's arms snake around his middle, and Yuri thinks that this is...really nice, being held like this. He feels warm, secure and... _loved_.

 

They flip through the multitude of pictures Yuri had taken, and it's kind of embarrassing to see what he looks like when he's kissing, but it's almost a _good_ embarrassing, especially since he gets to see how tender Otabek looks, too.

 

“I want you to send them all to me,” Otabek tells him once they've picked one to send to Mila. The one they picked is...sweet, for lack of a better word―Otabek is holding his side with the hand that isn't holding Yuri's, and Yuri's hand is tangled in Otabek's hair while his own hair is fanned out around him just right. Most importantly, they're both smiling against each other's lips, and they just look... _happy_.

 

He sends it to Mila, then sends all of them to Otabek. “Hey, should we...put one on Instagram?” he asks hesitantly. He doesn't mind if the world knows they're together, in fact he _wants_ the world to know, but...Otabek might not feel the same way, which is fine of course, but he just wants to know for sure.

 

“If you want to,” Otabek answers, pressing a gentle kiss to the spot behind Yuri's ear.

 

“You don't mind?” he presses, because he needs to be sure. “I know you're a private person, Beka, and I promise I don't mind if you don't want me to post one...”

 

Otabek hums. “People will find out sooner or later, so why not?”

 

“As long as you're sure...” Yuri says, still a little hesitant.

 

“Yura, I promise I'm sure. I want the world to know that you're mine and that I'm yours,” he assures him, smiling against his neck.

 

Yuri's face instantly heats up. “You're so embarrassing,” he whines.

 

“You love me anyway,” Otabek teases.

 

“Unfortunately,” Yuri sighs, but they both know he's kidding.

 

Now that he's sure it's okay, Yuri opens his photo editing app so that he can make a collage of his two favorite photos―one being the one he'd sent to Mila, and the other being one he got right before they started kissing; they're looking into each other's eyes, noses and foreheads touching, and there's just something really tender about it that he loves.

 

As he's saving it, his phone starts to ring with a facetime call, Mila's name flashing on the screen. Grinning, he answers.

 

“Yes, hag?” he greets, laughing.

 

“ _Don't you 'yes, hag' me! I want details, Yuri Plisetsky, and I want them now!”_ she demands, and Yuri has to hold back a laugh because her hair sticking up in every direction. She seems to notice Otabek, then, and blinks. _“Oh, hi, Otabek! I see you both finally stopped being clueless idiots,”_ she comments, raising an eyebrow.

 

“We did,” Otabek answers, hugging Yuri tighter. “Thank you for everything you've done for him, Mila, I'm really glad he had you to look out for him all this time,” he says sincerely, and Yuri can't help but turn his head to gently peck his lips, causing them both to smile.

 

“ _You two are so cute,”_ she sighs happily, leaning her head on her hand. _“But really, don't thank me―I did it because he's my bratty little brother and I love him, that's all.”_

 

“You're embarrassing,” Yuri mutters. “Anyway, why are you awake? It's still so early there...”

 

“ _I couldn't stop worrying after you called, so I haven't been able to get back to sleep,”_ she admits. _“Sara is grumpy because I wouldn't let her go back to sleep either, but oh well.”_

 

“ _I love you, babe, I just hate you a little right now,”_ they hear Sara groan in the background, causing them all to laugh.

 

“ _Come say hi?”_ Mila asks her girlfriend, patting the couch beside her.

 

Sara plops down next to her girlfriend a few seconds later, burrowing into her neck with a tired groan, and Mila laughs and kisses the side of her head. _“She's not a morning person,”_ Mila explains, smiling softly.

 

“ _I will fight you,”_ Sara threatens, turning to look into Mila's phone. With the way her long dark hair is covering her face, she almost looks a bit like _The Grudge_. _“It's your fault I'm awake, Plisetsky,”_ she grumbles.

 

Yuri holds his free hand up in surrender. “Hey, I already apologized for that. It was important.”

 

Sara sighs, finally pushing her hair out of her face, and cracks a smile. _“Just this once, I'll let you off the hook, because I've been waiting for this shit,”_ she pauses to gesture at them in the camera, _“for ages.”_

 

“Sorry we've kept you waiting,” Otabek hums, nudging Yuri's cheek with his nose. A smile breaks out on Yuri's face against his will, and he gladly turns his head enough to accept the kiss Otabek gives him.

 

“ _Oh my god they're nauseating,”_ Sara mutters.

 

Yuri turns his attention back to his phone, rolling his eyes. “Now you understand how I felt having to watch you two be gross all the time,” he says, a little smugly. “Payback's a bitch.”

 

“ _I think you guys are adorable, Sara's just cranky,”_ Mila tells them warmly, blue eyes soft. _“I really am so happy for you two, and I'm glad that all the unpleasantness is in the past now.”_

 

“I think we can all say that we're glad about that, too,” Otabek murmurs.

 

“ _You idiots deserve to be happy,”_ Sara says after a moment, lifting her head to kiss Mila's cheek. _“Someday, you guys will get to move in together and it'll be really awesome and yeah, you'll fight over dumb things like_ someone _eating the last two waffles in the freezer―”_

 

“ _Was your name on them? No? Didn't think so,”_ Mila cuts in with a shrug, and Sara rolls her eyes before continuing.

 

“― _but you'll be happy anyway because you'll be together, and that's all that matters in the end,”_ she tells them, reaching up to card her fingers through Mila's crazy bed hair. _“You'll get to wake up together every day, and you'll wonder how you ever managed to get so lucky. Getting there might be hard, and there will be times when the distance feels like too much to handle,”_ she continues, and Yuri knows she's thinking about the incident last year. _“But just...remind yourselves of what's waiting at the finish line, okay? Because it makes it all worth it in the end, I promise,”_ she finishes, looking at Mila like she's the most precious thing in the world.

 

“ _Sara...”_ Mila says softly, leaning in for a kiss.

 

Yuri lets his eyes close as Otabek hugs him tighter, nuzzling his face into his neck. “I love you,” he whispers, taking one of Otabek's hands from its spot around his waist and bringing it to his lips so he can kiss it.

 

“I love you too,” Otabek murmurs in response, threading his fingers through Yuri's own.

 

“ _We're gonna try and get a little more sleep,”_ Mila tells them, sniffling a little. _“Have fun together, you two, I'm sorry you only have three more days together...”_

 

“I invited him to come back to Hasetsu with me, so he's going to come there for a little,” Yuri says, smiling widely. “It won't be much more time, but...I'll take it,” he shrugs.

 

“I'll be greedy and take everything I can get,” Otabek adds, smiling softly.

 

“ _You two are going to make me cry, I'm so happy,”_ Mila sniffles. _“Well enjoy your time together, boys. We love you both.”_

 

“We love you too,” Yuri replies. “Get some sleep, okay? I'm sorry again for waking you up.”

 

Sara snorts. _“Like I said, you're off the hook this time. Do it again, though, and you're dead meat.”_

 

“I'll keep that in mind,” Yuri laughs, shaking his head. “Goodbye, guys.”

 

“ _Goodbye,”_ they chime in unison, and then the call ends. Before he gets distracted again, Yuri opens Instagram so he can post the picture, Otabek watching over his shoulder.

 

“ _life hack: fall in love with your best friend”_ he captions it, then hits upload and locks his phone, setting it aside. He's almost positive that Yuuri and Viktor are going to text him like crazy once they see it, and he wants a few minutes of calm first.

 

Rolling over, he props himself up with one hand, the other raising to cup Otabek's jaw. “What Sara said made me really happy,” he admits, stroking Otabek's stubbly cheek with his thumb.

 

“Me too,” Otabek says softly, taking his hand and pressing a tender kiss to the center of his palm. “I can't wait to live with you someday, Yura.”

 

Yuri's eyes spring with tears, and he starts to lean a little closer, gripping Otabek's chin and running his fingers across his lower lip. “I can't wait, either,” he replies. “We can get a cat, and a dog, and it'll just be...a place that's _ours_ , and no one else's.”

 

“I can't wait for your face to be the first thing I see when I wake up every morning,” Otabek whispers.

 

“Beka, I...” Words don't seem like enough right now, so instead, Yuri closes the last of the distance between them and kisses him for the probably the millionth time that night. Otabek seemed to have been waiting for it, because without missing a beat, he's already kissing Yuri back. A warm hand slides up into Yuri's hair, cupping the back of his head, while the other rests on his back. Yuri's hand has moved to the couch like the other one so that he doesn't do something embarrassing like fall and bash their heads together―he's pretty sure that would immediately ruin the mood, and he's not about to let it happen.

 

Maybe they're getting ahead of themselves―they'd only just started dating, but...they love each other, and Yuri knows with certainty that he wants to spend his life with him. Because first and foremost, Otabek is his best friend.

 

And Yuri can't imagine anything better than getting to live with his best friend, especially when that best friend happens to be his boyfriend, too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys have no idea how long i've waited to write this part, and i'm so excited to have finally reached this point ♥ this fic has been a Lot, and there have been times where i've been so stumped that i couldn't bring myself to continue, but then i'd think about getting to this point and it would give me the motivation i needed. so i hope you all enjoyed this, the product of all the pining, all the stupid mistakes, all the tears, and all the misunderstandings, because writing it has been a joy
> 
> fear not, it's not over yet―there's still a little more i want to write before i'm done with this story, so i hope you'll all stick with me a little while longer! once it's all said and done and this fic is over, i was thinking that maybe i'd like to write some smaller fics within this little universe i've created, like maybe some sarami and viktuuri, and even more otayuri, because i'm really attached :')
> 
> as always, i'd love nothing more than to hear what you guys think! i've been bad at replying to comments lately, but i swear they make me so happy and i feel really lucky to have such kind readers who are so invested in this fic ♥ you guys are the best, really
> 
> i'm not sure when the next update will be since i haven't started writing the next chapter, but i promise i'll try my best to get it out within the next week or so! bear with me guys, i'm going to make it to the end no matter what ♥
> 
> [tumblr](http://nikiforohv.tumblr.com) | [buy me a coffee if u want](https://ko-fi.com/A11213PY)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *crawls out of the void*
> 
> i can't believe i haven't worked on this since may, jesus christ??? im so sorry yall, i didn't mean for that to happen :') to try and makeup for my stupidly long absence, this chapter is extra long (like, over 9k words long)
> 
> i hope yall can forgive me for taking so long :')

“Alfia, are you _sure_ you don't mind driving us to the airport?”

 

Yuri looks up from his suitcase, watching Otabek pace as he speaks on the phone. Alfia had found out that they're leaving for Hasetsu today and called to offer them a drive, and it was clear that Otabek was unsure. Yuri knows he feels a lot of guilt for basically leading her on for six months, but it seems pretty clear to him that Alfia just wants to move past it and be his friend. Not for the first time, Yuri can't help but think about how much he admires her.

 

“I know you offered, but...you really don't have to, I'd feel bad...” Otabek tells her. Yuri zips his suitcase, moving to pack the last of Otabek's things that are laying on his bed into his suitcase―they have to leave soon, after all, and Otabek had gotten the call when he was in the middle of packing.

 

“ _Already_?” Otabek asks, voice rising in pitch, and Yuri raises an eyebrow. “Oh, well...we'll be right down then, thank you. Okay, goodbye.” He hangs up, letting out a sigh. “She's already outside, she's so stubborn...” When he sees that Yuri had already placed the rest of his things into his suitcase, he smiles, the stress seeming to melt from his shoulders. “Thank you for packing the rest of my things, I love you,” he murmurs, stretching onto his toes to kiss Yuri.

 

Yuri grins, bumping their noses together before pulling away. “I love you too, but we shouldn't keep her waiting. You're sure that's everything you need?” he questions, carding a hand through Otabek's hair. It's not slicked back right now, and it's incredibly soft against his fingers.

 

“Positive. You're sure you have everything of yours?” he counters, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Mhmm,” Yuri hums. “Guess that means we should get this show on the road.”

 

They grab all their luggage and head toward the door. Otabek stops Yuri once the door is shut behind them, though, biting his lip nervously. “Will you sit in the front seat with her?” he asks.

 

Yuri's eyes soften. “If you want me to, but...Beka, I really think you're worrying too much. I know you feel guilty about what happened with her, but she's obviously trying to move past it so you should, too. It might be weird for a little while, but just be her friend, yeah? As long as you're walking on eggshells around her, that can't happen.”

 

Otabek's mouth falls open for a few seconds before he lets out a small laugh, his face relaxing. “You know, you've gotten very wise, Yura. You really have done a lot of maturing in the past few months, haven't you?”

 

Yuri shrugs. “I guess. But enough about my maturity, we really need to get out of here; we can't miss our flight,” he points out, holding out his free hand for Otabek to take. When he does, they head out together, opting for the elevator this time, and when they emerge from the building, they find Alfia parked in front to wait.

 

She waves immediately upon seeing them, jumping out of the car to help them pack their luggage away. “You know I don't have a very big trunk so you might have to just take the carry-ons in the back with you, Beka. The two suitcases should fit fine in the trunk, though,” she says.

 

“Score, I get shotgun,” Yuri grins, as if he hadn't already told Otabek he'd take the front seat anyway.

 

Alfia laughs. “Well _yeah_ , you have Beka beat in the height department so it would be mean to stick you in the back, it's pretty cramped back there.”

 

Otabek sighs. “I don't mind taking the back seat anyway, it's fine.”

 

“I don't think anyone asked if you mind or not, Beka,” Alfia teases with a wink.

 

“Savage,” Yuri comments, raising a hand for a high five, while Otabek just takes it all good-naturedly.

 

They pack all their luggage in and get in the car, and Alfia starts it up and pulls out of the parking lot of Otabek's apartment complex.

 

A few minutes into their mostly-silent drive, Alfia clears her throat. “Now, I can see how this situation might be a little awkward,” she starts, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. “But I swear, I have no hard feelings. Sure, I'm still a little sad, and I probably will be for a while,” she admits, slowing to a stop as the light on the street they're driving down turns red, “but seriously, I'm happy that things worked out for the two of you. Looking at you guys now, it's clear that you're meant for each other, and I fully support that. We clear?”

 

“Crystal,” Yuri answers, turning his head to smile. “Thanks, Alfia, it means a lot to hear that from you.”

 

She shrugs. “I just...don't want things to be weird, y'know?” She looks behind her at Otabek, raising an eyebrow. “I know being quiet and mysterious is like, your _thing_ , Beka, but you're being even more quiet than usual back there. Care to share what you're thinking?” she asks, and her tone is more gentle now.

 

Otabek swallows hard, chewing on his lip before opening his mouth to speak. “Alfia, I really am so sor―”

 

“Ah ah ah,” she cuts in before he can finish, wiggling a finger. The light turns green, and they're moving again. “Otabek Altin, don't you dare apologize to me again―you've already said you're sorry a million times and I _promise_ that I accept your apology, so I don't want you to apologize about this anymore. I know you didn't get into a relationship with me with the intention to hurt me, and _yeah_ , it still hurt anyway, I won't try and pretend that it didn't, but...I really just want to move past this, and I want to keep you as a friend. You're happier now that you're with Yuri than you ever were with me, it's easy to see, so...try and let go of your guilt, okay? I'm glad that you're happy. I'm going to be okay, so don't worry about me,” she tells him, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror.

 

“I just...really wish I'd done things differently,” Otabek sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “I wish I hadn't hurt you, you didn't deserve it...”

 

Sadness washes over Alfia's face, but she still smiles. “Thank you for saying that. I wish those things too, but...I don't regret dating you, Beka. You're a good guy, you just happened to make some mistakes. You're human, that's kinda what we do, y'know? I've already forgiven you, so I think it's time you forgive yourself, too.”

 

“The lady has spoken, Beka,” Yuri chimes in. “Better listen to her, yeah?”

 

“See? Your boyfriend gets it,” Alfia grins, nudging Yuri with her elbow.

 

“...you two are menaces,” Otabek finally says, cracking a smile.

 

“You love us,” Yuri shrugs.

 

“I do,” Otabek replies, tone earnest. “And it may be in a different way than you'd wanted me to, Alfia, but...I do love you, and...I'm glad to have had the privilege of meeting you and getting to know you. You're a beautiful, wonderful person and your heart is so big, and one day, you're going to meet someone who will treasure you the way you should be treasured, the way that I couldn't.”

 

“Stop it, you're going to make me cry,” Alfia mumbles, biting her lip.

 

“You're such a sap, Beka,” Yuri says fondly, heart full of love for his boyfriend. He turns to Alfia, offering a smile. “What he said is true, though. Even though I was jealous as fuck when you two were dating, I couldn't ever find it within myself to hate you, Alfia, because...I dunno, you're just too good of a person. Whoever ends up with you is gonna be one lucky guy,” he tells her, laying a hand on her shoulder.

 

“You two are too much,” she says softly, hazel eyes wet with tears. “Thanks, boys, it means a lot to hear that, _really_.”

 

Conversation flows more easily after that, and it's clear that there's been an invisible weight lifted from both Otabek and Alfia's shoulders. When they reach the airport, Alfia gets out of the car so that she can hug them both, squeezing tight.

 

“Next time you're in Almaty, let's all hang out for real, okay?” she says, mostly to Yuri.

 

“I'm down for that,” he answers, grinning. “Thanks for the drive, we really appreciate it.”

 

She shrugs. “I had nothing else planned today, so it's no problem. Have a safe trip, boys, and...enjoy your time together in Japan, okay? Make the best of it,” she tells them, offering a kind smile.

 

“I'll...see you when I get back?” Otabek questions.

 

She nods, smile widening. “You sure will,” she promises, eyes practically sparkling.

 

They say their goodbyes, and Otabek and Yuri link hands and head inside. It's going to be another long flight, which kinda sucks, but...Yuri has Otabek with him this time, so he's sure it won't be too bad.

 

* * *

 

Their flight gets in around three in the morning. It only feels like midnight to them, so they aren't _too_ tired, but by the look of Viktor and Yuuri, they're exhausted.

 

But unfortunately, exhaustion doesn't stop them from being extra as _fuck_.

 

Yuri groans when they step out of the gate and find Viktor and Yuuri waiting for them, holding up a bright green sign. “WELCOME HOME YURI AND OTABEK (OUR SONS),” it reads. “Really?” he says under his breath, causing Otabek to start quietly laughing at his side.

 

“Yuuri! Look! It's them!” Viktor loudly exclaims upon seeing them, letting go of the sign and running toward them, pulling them into a tight bear hug the second he reaches them.

 

“Why can't you act normal for once in your life,” Yuri sighs, but he lets himself lean into the embrace―sue him, he'd missed Viktor. Yuuri too, but unlike his husband, he'd had the decency not to charge at them the second he saw them.

 

“Because I missed you,” Viktor blubbers. Is he seriously crying?

 

“Viktor, come on, let them go,” Yuuri says gently, smiling fondly at his husband.

 

Viktor lets go, sniffling and wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Yuri turns to Yuuri, takes a deep breath, and hugs him tightly―Yuuri seems shocked for a moment before he hugs Yuri back, rubbing his back gently.

 

“Did you have a good trip?” he asks.

 

Yuri hums affirmatively. “The best,” he answers, letting go of Yuuri so that he can reach out to take Otabek's hand, smiling down at him.

 

“Viktor nearly choked on his toast when he saw the picture you posted to Instagram the other night,” Yuuri tells him with a laugh.

 

Viktor pouts. “ _So_? You _cried_ when you saw it,” he mutters, crossing his arms.

 

Yuuri immediately goes red. “I couldn't help it,” he defends, sighing helplessly. “I've watched him be sad for so long, and I'm just...so glad that it all worked out in the end,” he adds, smiling softly at the two younger members of their group.

 

Yuri lets his head rest on Otabek's, letting go of his hand in favor of wrapping an arm around him instead. “We were dumb and oblivious, but it's in the past now,” he says softly, smiling when Otabek leans into him more.

 

The loud sound of Viktor blowing his nose makes them jump, and they turn to stare at him. He's still crying, looking at them with watery blue eyes. “I'm so happy,” he wails. “My little boy is all grown up and in love and now I have a wonderful son in law,” he continues, blowing his nose again. “I couldn't be happier...!”

 

Yuuri rubs his husbands back, fondness in his eyes, while Yuri groans. “You're going to embarrass Beka, old man,” he mumbles.

 

“It's fine,” Otabek interjects. He's a little red in the face, but he's smiling. “Thank you for...accepting me into your family so easily, I'm very honored,” he says to Viktor, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

 

“Don't humor him,” Yuri sighs.

 

Viktor and Yuuri share a look, nod, and then without a word, they're tugging both Yuri and Otabek in for a tight hug. “We're happy to have you,” Yuuri says to Otabek, laughing.

 

“Let's get home and have some tea,” Viktor sighs, giving them a squeeze.

 

“Forget tea, you geezers should go to sleep,” Yuri protests as Yuuri and Viktor let them go.

 

“A little tea before bed will be nice, I think,” Yuuri shrugs, smiling.

 

“I wouldn't mind a cup,” Otabek chimes in.

 

Yuri rolls his eyes. “I can see I'm outnumbered, so fine,” he mumbles. He nudges Otabek, lips curling at the corners. “You traitor,” he whispers.

 

Otabek takes his hand, bringing it up to his mouth to gently kiss it, and hums affirmatively in response.

 

They head toward the exit then, Yuri pulling Otabek along by the hand ahead of Viktor and Yuuri, and immediately he hears them whispering and giggling behind them. When he turns his head to glare, they pretend to not even pay attention―but the second he turns back around, it starts again.

 

“They're just happy,” Otabek murmurs, leaning in to speak as quietly as he can. “Try not to get too annoyed, Yura.”

 

“They're so embarrassing,” Yuri grumbles.

 

Otabek squeezes his hand, a soft smile on his face as he lets their arms press together. “It's how they show their love.”

 

Face softening, Yuri leans down to knock their noses together. “I know,” he sighs, reluctantly smiling. “I guess I can't expect any different, can I?”

 

“Mm, better to just accept it,” Otabek agrees.

 

“You sure you're ready to deal with my embarrassing dads?” Yuri asks, raising an eyebrow and grinning.

 

“If it means being with you, I think I'd do just about anything,” Otabek tells him, squeezing his hand once more. “There are definitely worse things, Yura. Besides, I like Yuuri and Viktor, so I can handle a little embarrassment from time to time.”

 

“You are so fucking sappy, Otabek Altin,” Yuri sighs, but he's happy―so happy he can't resist leaning in to gently peck his boyfriend on the lips.

 

“Only for you, Yuri Plisetsky,” Otabek responds, raising the hand he's holding to his lips to tenderly place a kiss on his knuckles.

 

They hear more nose blowing from behind them, turning their heads to find Viktor being weepy again while Yuuri rubs his back, a tender smile on his lips. “He's just so happy to see you two happy,” Yuuri explains, his voice nearly drowned out by Viktor's loud nose-blowing.

 

“It's like looking into a mirror and seeing us when we first started dating,” Viktor blubbers. “Yuuri, I love you,” he practically wails into his husband's shoulder.

 

“I love you too,” Yuuri laughs, cupping Viktor's jaw tenderly, “but you're embarrassing the kids, dear.”

 

“I'm sorry,” Viktor sniffles. “I'm just so happy...”

 

“Please tell me you're not going to cry every time you see Beka and I kiss,” Yuri groans.

 

“I make no promises,” Viktor replies, blowing his nose once more.

 

Yuri groans again, but Otabek laughs. “Just remind yourself that it's worth getting to spend more time together,” he says softly.

 

Yuri takes a deep breath, nodding. “You're right. The geezers can be as embarrassing as they want, because if it means I get to be with you, then I guess I really can't complain,” he says in reply, cheeks reddening.

 

“I love you,” Otabek says earnestly, dark eyes shining.

 

“I love you too,” Yuri answers, unable to stop himself from smiling.

 

They get to the car and load their luggage into the trunk, and Yuuri ends up driving because Viktor's still too weepy. The drive home is blissfully silent, and Otabek's hand is warm in Yuri's while Yuri slides lower in his seat and lets his head rest on his boyfriend's shoulder.

 

“I washed all your bedding today, so it's nice and fresh,” Yuuri says when they're pulling into their driveway.

 

“Thanks,” Yuri replies, straightening up. As soon as the car is parked, Viktor immediately jogs to the door so he can let Makkachin out, while Yuuri helps Otabek and Yuri unload their luggage.

 

Makkachin immediately finds Otabek the second he's let outside, nearly tackling him to the ground in his excitement, and Otabek's delighted laughter is like music to Yuri's ears.

 

“Hello to you too,” he greets the excited dog, ruffling his fluffy ears. “I guess you missed me, huh? I missed you too, boy,” he coos.

 

“Hey, what am I, chopped liver?” Yuri asks Makkachin, kneeling down to rub his head and let him kiss his face.

 

“Don't get jealous,” Otabek teases. “I can't help it if animals just love me.”

 

“You're such a shithead,” Yuri laughs, straightening back up to grab his luggage.

 

“Come on, Makkachin, go pee and leave them alone,” Yuuri calls, tone affectionate.

 

Makkachin heads over to the grass obediently, allowing Otabek and Yuri to head inside with their luggage.

 

“Welcome to our home, Otabek,” Viktor says when they step inside and take off their shoes. “I'll have the tea ready soon, but Yuri can show you around in the meantime.”

 

“Thank you for having me,” Otabek answers sincerely.

 

“You're welcome here anytime,” Yuuri says from behind them as he shuts the door, Makkachin running ahead into the kitchen. “Viktor, I think he wants a treat. Have you started boiling the water for the tea?”

 

“Yes, my dear,” Viktor replies, holding a hand out to his husband. Yuuri steps forward and takes it. “We'll be in the kitchen, we'll call you when the tea is ready.”

 

Yuri nods, pulling Otabek further into the house. “I'll show you around after we put our stuff in my room,” he tells him. Otabek nods, allowing himself to be pulled along until they stop in front of Yuri's door. “This is my room,” Yuri announces as he opens the door, stepping aside to let Otabek enter first.

 

“It's cozy,” Otabek murmurs, setting his carry-on bag on the bed and his suitcase in front of Yuri's nightstand. “I like the picture wall,” he adds, walking over to inspect it more closely.

 

Yuri drops his bag on the floor, moving toward Otabek and wrapping his arms around him from behind. “This one is my favorite,” he says, pointing to a picture Mila had snapped of them at the beach in Hasetsu in the days before Yuuri and Viktor's wedding. They'd run into the water, Yuri splashing Otabek while Otabek shielded his face, a wide grin on his lips.

 

“I've never seen that one before,” Otabek comments. “I like it too, though.”

 

“I'll have to add some new pictures from Almaty,” Yuri murmurs, burying his face in Otabek's neck and pressing a small, innocent kiss there.

 

Otabek hums, leaning into Yuri's embrace for a moment before turning in his arms. The soft, dim yellow light from Yuri's string lights creates gentle shadows on his face and makes his eyes look almost black―the color is so deep that it momentarily steals the breath from his lungs with its beauty. Warm hands slide up to cup his face, those beautiful dark eyes sliding shut as Otabek stretches up to kiss him, a gentle press of lips that makes Yuri's chest feel warm.

 

_God, I'm so in love,_ he thinks to himself, arms tightening around Otabek's waist to pull him closer as the kiss deepens. A thrill goes through him when he feels Otabek's tongue against his lips; it's still so new to him, but he really, _really_ likes making out with Otabek. He never pushes too far, he just lets Yuri go at his own pace, which is appreciated since he's still not exactly sure what he's doing.

 

“I'm supposed to be showing you around,” Yuri mumbles against Otabek's mouth, unable to stop kissing him even though he knows he should.

 

“You can show me around later,” Otabek answers, sliding a hand into Yuri's hair. “Just wanna kiss you.”

 

And, well, Yuri can't argue against that. Their tongues slide together, Otabek's tickling the roof of his mouth, and a shudder goes through Yuri's entire body. “Self control is impossible around you,” Yuri pulls away to breathe, nipping at Otabek's lower lip before diving back in. The pace feels a little more frantic now, like they can't get enough of each other―and while he's not sure how they went from slow and gentle to this, he's not really complaining.

 

They're so caught up in each other that they don't hear the footsteps coming down the hall. The sound of an amused snort finally alerts them to the fact that they're no longer alone, and Yuri swears he jumps clear to the other side of the room, swearing loudly out of fright.

 

Viktor is standing in the doorway, a hand on his hip and a shit-eating grin on his face. “Sorry, did I interrupt something?” he asks, tone of voice indicating that he already knows the answer.

 

Yuri rips a pillow off his bed and chucks it at Viktor, who dodges with a laugh. “Go away oh my _god_ ,” Yuri growls.

 

Viktor raises his hands in surrender. “I just came to say that the tea is just about ready,” he says innocently. “I'll be going now.”

 

“Thank you, Viktor, we'll be right out,” Otabek answers him, and even in the low light, Yuri can see the intensity of his blush.

 

Viktor leaves them, and Yuri sinks down on his bed and buries his face in his hands, letting out a long groan. He wonders why his life is so embarrassing all the time. Did he commit some kind of awful crime in a previous life or something? Is this his punishment?

 

Yuri hears soft footsteps moving toward him, followed by the feeling of the bed dipping under Otabek's weight. He then feels warm fingers gently prying their way under his hands so he can pull them away from his face, and when Yuri lets them be tugged away, Otabek slides his fingers to the blond's jaw, tilting his head sideways so their eyes meet. Otabek still looks embarrassed, but he offers Yuri a sheepish smile that instantly makes his heart melt. He'd already known it before they started dating, but it really only takes one of Otabek's smiles to turn him completely into mush. “Sorry, it's my fault we got carried away,” he apologizes softly, cupping Yuri's cheek.

 

Yuri lets out a deep exhale, feeling himself relax. He reaches out and wraps his arms around Otabek's midsection, pulling him in close and rolling onto his side so he can nuzzle his face into his hip. “My fault too,” he replies simply, allowing the sweet scent of his boyfriend's laundry detergent to wash over him. “That was embarrassing as fuck, though.”

 

Otabek hums, sliding his hands through Yuri's long hair. He gently works out any tangles he finds, and Yuri's sure that if he were a cat, he'd be purring. “It was. But it was nice before Viktor walked in,” he murmurs, scratching Yuri's scalp with his blunt fingernails.

 

Yuri tugs him down by the back of his shirt until he's laying beside him, and Yuri's arms tighten around him as he buries his face in the crook of his neck. “Do we have to go drink tea with the geezers?” he asks, trying his best not to sound whiny.

 

Otabek lets out a quiet laugh, and warmth rushes through Yuri at the sound; he's sure he's never going to grow tired of the sound of his boyfriend's laugh. “They missed you, Yura, enough that they want to have tea with you in the middle of the night instead of going to bed even though I'm sure they're exhausted. The least we can do is go sit with them for a few minutes,” he points out, pressing a soft kiss to Yuri's forehead.

 

“I hate it when you're right,” Yuri grumbles into his neck, drawing another precious laugh from Otabek. He tilts his head, reaching out to run a hand through Otabek's messy hair, and he swears his heart stutters in his chest because Otabek is, quite honestly, breathtaking with his dark eyes and dark hair fanning out messily and that strong jaw of his highlighted by the soft light of his room. Hand sliding from his hair to Otabek's waist, he squeezes him closer. “Fine, we'll go. But you're gonna have to give me a kiss first though, or else I'm not letting you up,” he tells him, lips spreading in a toothy grin.

 

“If I must,” Otabek sighs, pretending it's a chore or something. Yuri sees right through it, obviously―in the few days that they've been dating, he's discovered just how touchy and clingy Otabek can be, and frankly? He loves it. Revels in it, to be precise. He loves knowing that Otabek wants to be close to him like this, and thinking about it makes butterflies erupt in his stomach.

 

Yuri raises a brow. “Well? I'm waiting,” he says, pursing his lips and squeezing his eyes shut.

 

Another quiet laugh, and then there's the gentle touch of soft lips on his own. Yuri had gotten him to start using chapstick in the past few days, so his lips are silky smooth against his own now (which is appreciated, even though Yuri would definitely kiss him regardless).

 

The kiss is a quick one, and Yuri feels himself pout, which makes Otabek snort. “They're waiting for us,” he gently reminds Yuri, leaning in again to quickly kiss the corner of his mouth.

 

“One more?” Yuri pleads, letting his lower lip jut out.

 

Otabek sighs, shaking his head. “You're going to kill me,” he mumbles, but he's tender when he bumps their noses together. “One more,” he says, giving in.

 

When Yuri's hands find his boyfriend's cheeks, they're warm beneath his touch. “You're embarrassed,” he observes softly, pressing their foreheads together.

 

“I wouldn't say embarrassed,” Otabek answers with a shake of his head. “More like...I'm still getting used to it. Kissing you, and _you_ wanting to kiss _me_ , I mean,” he admits, and his cheeks grow even warmer under Yuri's hands.

 

Yuri feels his own cheeks heat up in response. “Well...get used to it, dumbass. Because...I always want to kiss you,” he tells him, letting his hands fall from Otabek's face as he averts his eyes and rolls onto his back, too embarrassed to maintain eye contact.

 

Otabek pulls him close, an arm wrapping loosely around his waist. “We're a mess,” he says fondly, leaning his head against Yuri's shoulder.

 

“...I'm okay with that,” Yuri announces, shifting his head and reaching over to gently take Otabek's chin in his hand, tilting it up so nudge their noses together―and then they're kissing again, more gently than they have all night.

 

“Me too,” Otabek murmurs as they separate. His thumb strokes Yuri's ribs. “I love you.”

 

“Love you too,” Yuri sighs happily, resting their foreheads against one another and letting his eyes fall shut. He lets himself savor the peace of it for a few seconds longer before he's sighing again, more wearily this time. “Come on, we'd better go before the geezers come looking again,” he says, letting go of Otabek.

 

Otabek hums in response, shuffling out of Yuri's grip and standing. He offers a hand. “Lead the way, because I'm not quite sure where we're going.”

 

Yuri snorts, taking the outstretched hand and pulling him toward the door. “Right, still haven't taken you on that house tour―I promise I will after tea. Just try not to distract me again this time,” he teases.

 

“I make no promises,” Otabek mutters.

 

Yuri leads him through the house to the kitchen, where Yuuri and Viktor are seated, waiting with steaming cups of tea and shortbread cookies. “There you are, we were starting to wonder if we'd lost you for the night,” Viktor snorts with a wiggle of his eyebrows, lifting his teacup to his lips and taking a sip.

 

“Fuck off,” Yuri grumbles, plopping down in the chair beside the older Russian. He isn't going to make Otabek sit next to him, he's not _that_ mean.

 

“I'm sorry we, uh...took so long, but thank you very much for the tea,” Otabek says as he takes his seat between Yuri and Yuuri, redness tinting his cheeks once more.

 

“It's alright,” Yuuri assures him, smiling. “I remember when Viktor and I started dating...we were just as bad as you two.”

 

“Probably worse, love,” Viktor chimes in.

 

“ _Definitely_ worse,” Yuri mutters, grabbing a cookie and taking a bite.

 

Viktor reaches over to ruffle his hair. “We might've accidentally scarred little Yurio for life a few times,” he adds, laughing.

 

Yuri shudders, while Yuuri's cheeks go a little pink. “Not our finer moments,” he admits.

 

Otabek laughs. “He complained to me about you two a lot,” he tells them. “Always texting me and asking me to save him from 'the disgusting geezers' and such.”

 

“I like to think we're a bit better now,” Yuuri coughs, lifting his teacup and taking a sip to cover the redness of his face.

 

“Marginally,” Yuri replies with a roll of his eyes. “Face it, though―you two are just going to be disgusting forever.”

 

“Yura, I don't really think you can say anything about that when you're the one who just trapped me and wouldn't let me go until I gave you a kiss,” Otabek points out, his cheeks reddening at the admission.

 

“Beka,” Yuri groans, hiding his face in his hands. “You're supposed to be on my side, here.”

 

Otabek shrugs. “I can't let them take all the heat.”

 

Crossing his arms, Yuri leans back in his chair and shrugs. “Fine. As long as we're playing dirty, then _you're_ the one who refused to stop kissing me while I was cooking the other night and made me burn our food so bad that we had to order takeout and your only excuse was that you love me so much that you couldn't help yourself,” he shoots back, face burning.

 

“...point taken,” Otabek mumbles, coughing awkwardly.

 

Yuri hears a sniffle from beside him, and turns his head to find Viktor looking at them with a teary smile on his face. “Oh come _on_ , you're getting all weepy _again_?” he sighs, shaking his head.

 

“I can't help it!” Viktor exclaims, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. “I'm just so happy for you two...”

 

Yuri looks to Yuuri for help, but Yuuri just shrugs apologetically. “You know how he is,” he says, sighing fondly as he reaches over to take his husband's hand.

 

Yuri lets out a sigh of his own, sipping at his tea before turning to Viktor. “Look, old man, you can't go crying every time Beka or I do something cute, you're just gonna have to get used to it and stop being so embarrassing,” he mutters.

 

“I know, I know,” Viktor sniffles, blowing his nose. “It just...makes me happy, to see you so happy. You've been so sullen for as long as I've known you, so I'm glad to see the real you coming out.” He turns his attention to Otabek, offering a teary-eyed smile. “Thank you for making him so happy, Otabek. I'm very grateful.” His eyes gain a sharpness then. “You'd better not even _think_ about hurting my son after making him so happy, or else we're going to have a problem. Got it?”

 

Otabek stiffens, and Yuri can practically feel him starting to sweat nervously. “Oh my god, are you seriously going to act like an overprotective dad right now?” he groans. “Jeez, Viktor, I'm a big boy, so lay-off.”

 

“No, Yuri, he's just showing he cares,” Otabek cuts in, shaking his head.

 

“Thank you for understanding,” Viktor says brightly, as if he hadn't just been crying and threatening him a moment ago. “I don't think there will be any problems, though. I can tell how genuine you are, Otabek, and I'm glad because Yuuri and I have grown fond of you over the past few years and I don't think we could've hoped for a kinder, more caring person for Yuri to end up with. Take care of his heart, because he doesn't give it easily,” he finishes, voice softening.

 

“I promise I will,” Otabek answers, looking the most serious he has during this whole conversation. “Yuri's heart is the most precious thing I've ever been given, and I intend to treat it with the utmost care. I can't promise I'll never hurt him, because that's unrealistic given how unpredictable life is, but I _can_ promise that I'll do my best to make him happy for as long as he'll have me,” he continues, soft brown eyes meeting Yuri's as he reaches over to squeeze his hand.

 

“I hate you, you're so fucking sappy,” Yuri mumbles, pulling Otabek in for a hug and burying his face in his neck to hide the fact that his eyes are watering. “I promise I'll do my best, too, you idiot.”

 

A kiss is pressed to his shoulder. “Thank you,” Otabek murmurs, hugging him tighter and nuzzling into his shoulder.

 

Another loud sniffle breaks the silence, and Yuri sighs and starts to pull away. “Viktor, seriously―” But then he cuts himself off, because when he looks up again, it's Yuuri who's sniffling loudly, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Not you too,” Yuri groans.

 

Viktor wordlessly holds his pocket-sized pack of tissues out to his husband, who takes one gratefully and blows his nose. “I'm sorry,” Yuuri laughs, pulling his glasses off so he can wipe his eyes properly with his sleeve. “You two just...really warm my heart, and I'm glad you've finally reached this point. Seeing you happy together is all I've wanted for the past year.”

 

“You don't have to cry about it,” Yuri sighs.

 

“Let us be happy for you,” Viktor tells him, wiping at his own tears. “Our grumpy little boy is finally happy, of course we're going to cry about it.”

 

“...embarrassing old geezers,” Yuri grumbles under his breath. Reaching out for his teacup, he takes a sip of his cooling tea. “Just...please try not to burst into tears every five seconds for the rest of Beka's visit?” he asks, looking back and forth between Yuuri and Viktor. “It's already excessive as it is, and you're both ugly criers anyway.”

 

“We'll try our best to restrain ourselves,” Viktor chuckles, finishing the cookie on his plate and washing it down with his tea. He stands, then turns to Yuuri. “Do you want the rest of my tea, love? I think I'm going to go to bed, this 'embarrassing old geezer' needs his beauty sleep.”

 

Yuuri shakes his head, humming. “I think I'll head to bed, too. Just pour it down the sink―and take mine, too? If you don't mind?” he asks, holding out his nearly empty cup.

 

Viktor dips down to give him a quick peck on the lips, tucking a piece of dark hair behind his husband's ear. “Of course I don't mind,” he answers, taking the offered cup and carrying it to the sink with his own, pouring our the remaining liquid and giving them a quick rinse. “Don't forget to rinse your cups out when you're done, boys,” he says to Yuri and Otabek over his shoulder.

 

“Yeah yeah, don't worry,” Yuri replies with a disinterested wave of his hand.

 

“Thank you again for picking us up so late and for making us tea,” Otabek says cordially, offering Yuuri and Viktor a smile. “And thank you again for allowing me to come here, I really appreciate it.”

 

“There's really no need to thank us,” Yuuri assures him, smiling back. “All we ask is that you enjoy your time together to the fullest.”

 

“We will,” Otabek responds, warmth in his deep brown eyes.

 

Viktor makes his way over, leaning down to hug Yuri, ignoring his complaints. “We're glad you're home, Yurotchka,” he says softly.

 

Yuri stops struggling against him, sighing. “Yeah, it's good to be home,” he answers, biting his lip.

 

Viktor lets him go, only to turn and hug Otabek, too. Yuri watches his boyfriend's eyes widen comically before he's awkwardly hugging Viktor back, and he has to stifle a laugh. “We're glad you came to visit too, Otabek. Please make yourself at home,” he tells him, letting go and straightening up.

 

“I...thank you, Viktor. I will,” Otabek replies, clearing his throat.

 

“Alright, Viktor, I think we've both embarrassed them enough for tonight,” Yuuri laughs, taking Viktor's hand and pulling him toward their room. “Goodnight, Yuri and Otabek. I hope you both have a good sleep.”

 

“Goodnight,” Yuri and Otabek answer in unison.

 

Just before they disappear down the hall, Viktor turns his head to look at them over his shoulder. “Oh, Yuri? I left you something in your desk drawer, make sure you check it before bed,” he says innocently. Then, with a wicked grin, he adds, “And please try to keep it down tonight, hmm? We're very tired, we'd hate to be...kept up by anything.”

 

With lightning-fast reflexes, Otabek catches Yuri's hand before he can throw a cookie at Viktor. “Go the fuck to bed already!” Yuri yells, feeling how hot his face has gotten in a matter of seconds.

 

“Ignore him,” Yuuri sighs, dragging his husband away, and that's (thankfully) the last they hear from them for the night.

 

“I'm going to kill him,” Yuri groans, bending over to lay his head on the table.

 

“That might be a little extreme,” Otabek states.

 

Turning his head so he can look at his boyfriend, Yuri finds Otabek's face just as red as his own. “You sure? He literally just told us not to have loud sex all night. Pretty sure that's a good enough reason to kill him.”

 

Incredibly, Otabek goes even redder at that. He clears his throat before speaking again. “You know he likes to tease you, I don't think that's quite enough to warrant murder...”

 

“At least let me dream,” Yuri mumbles.

 

Otabek lets out a quiet wheeze of a laugh, shaking his head. “Come on, finish your tea so we can go to bed,” he urges, nudging Yuri's knee with his own.

 

Yuri reluctantly sits up, reaching for his tea. “I'm sorry you have to deal with them. Now that we're together, you're gonna be on the receiving end of their embarrassing antics too, so...prepare yourself.”

 

“On the bright side, at least they've accepted me into the family,” Otabek shrugs, smiling awkwardly.

 

“That's disgustingly positive of you, but...you say that like you were scared they weren't going to,” Yuri observes, quirking an eyebrow.

 

Otabek bites his lip, considering his next words. “Well, I mean...even though it was unintentional, I caused you pain. I guess I was a little worried that they'd hold that against me,” he answers, shrugging again in an attempt at seeming nonchalant.

 

“...you fucking goof,” Yuri says after a moment, unable to help the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth. “Of course they wouldn't hold that against you. I'd kill them if they did, because it's obviously not like you meant to turn me into a disgustingly mopey, lovesick idiot,” he continues, shaking his head. “I'm the one who couldn't get my shit together and be happy for you when you were with Alfia, that's not your problem and I don't want you to blame yourself for that.”

 

“But if I'd just said something sooner―”

 

Yuri presses a finger to Otabek's lips, cutting him off mid-sentence. Otabek blinks owlishly at him as he takes a sip of his tea before setting it back down on the table, hand moving to cup Otabek's face instead. “Stop right there,” he starts. “You were scared of being in love with your best friend, and maybe dating someone else to try and run from that wasn't your _brightest_ idea, but it's in the past now. You somehow had no idea that I was in love with you, too, so you can't blame yourself when I did nothing to show how I felt. Hell, I had no idea how I felt until you started dating her anyway. And as shitty as it was to see you with someone else...I don't think I'd change how things happened. I did a lot of growing up because of this, Beka, and I finally learned how to rely on other people. So no more apologizing, okay? Because we're here now, and that's all that matters. Got it?”

 

Eyes gone soft, Otabek reaches up to lay a hand over the one Yuri has on his cheek, letting his eyes shut as he leans into it, letting out a long breath. “Got it,” he replies, and when his eyes open again, he gives Yuri a look so tender that it actually makes his heart ache, a dull throb in his chest. “I love you, Yura,” he adds, turning his head to kiss the center of Yuri's palm.

 

Yuri flips his hand so he can lace their fingers together, tugging Otabek in for a soft peck on the lips. “I love you more,” he replies, grinning.

 

Otabek lets out a derisive snort. “I highly doubt that.”

 

“You're crazy if you think you love me more, punk,” Yuri teases, poking his chest. “No one can possibly love anyone more than I love you.”

 

Otabek hums, an indulgent smile on his face. “Think what you want,” he says, shrugging. “I know the truth. And the truth is that no one can possibly love anyone more than _I_ love _you_.”

 

“Copycat,” Yuri mutters, but he's grinning.

 

“Just because you said it first doesn't mean I wasn't thinking it first,” Otabek quips, dipping in to kiss Yuri's cheek before standing, grabbing his teacup. “Are you done with your tea?” he asks.

 

Yuri nods. “I'm beat,” he responds, stretching and letting out a yawn.

 

Otabek takes both of their teacups to the sink, making sure to rinse them. Yuri grabs the plate of cookies and carries it over to the kitchen island, turning to grab some cling wrap from a nearby drawer and hastily covering the plate before setting it on top of the fridge where Makkachin won't be able to get at it.

 

Just as he's lowering his arm, he feels Otabek's arms slither around his midsection from behind, and a smile works its way onto his lips. “Something you need?”

 

“Just felt like holding you,” Otabek answers simply.

 

“Nerd,” Yuri says fondly, leaning into the embrace.

 

“That's me,” Otabek hums, voice muffled as he presses his face into Yuri's back to nuzzle against him.

 

“C'mon, I'll show you where the bathroom is and then we can go to bed,” Yuri tells him, reluctantly worming his way out of his boyfriend's embrace. “I'll show you the rest of the house in the morning, it's too fuckin' late right now.”

 

“Sounds good.” Otabek allows Yuri to take his hand and lead him down the hall toward his bedroom, and once they're there, he lets go so Otabek can dig some pajamas out of his suitcase followed by his bag of toiletries. Once he has them, he leads him back into the hall and stops at a door they'd passed on their way to his bedroom and reaches inside, flipping the light on. “This is my bathroom, so you can leave your shit in there. Yuuri and Viktor have their own bathroom in their end of the house.”

 

“Alright,” Otabek replies, stepping into the brightly lit blue room. “I won't be long.”

 

“Take your time, I'm getting changed in my room anyway. All I have to do in there is brush my teeth and wash my face.”

 

Otabek nods, shutting the door, and Yuri heads back to his bedroom. He shuts the door behind him, immediately discarding his slightly sweaty shirt and throwing it into the corner of his room to be picked up later. He flips on his fan to get some air circulating before digging through his drawers for suitable pajamas that _won't_ make him roast to death, eventually settling for a thin, holey grey tank top and mid-thigh length red shorts. He knows he'll probably overheat regardless, since Otabek is like a human heater, but he's hoping the light clothing and the fan will help at least a little bit.

 

A moment later, he hears a soft knock on his door. “Come in,” he calls, pulling the tank top over his head.

 

The door opens, and Otabek enters, wearing basketball shorts and a baggy t-shirt. “The bathroom is all yours,” he announces.

 

“Okay,” Yuri hums, digging his own bag of toiletries from his suitcase. Before leaving the room, he dips down to quickly kiss Otabek, humming at the minty taste of his mouth. “I'll be right back. Make yourself comfortable, okay?”

 

“Alright,” Otabek answers, shoving his dirty clothes in his suitcase and heading toward Yuri's bed.

 

Yuri brushes his teeth quickly but thoroughly, then follows up with some mouthwash that he swishes around for a moment before spitting it out. Once he's satisfied with the cleanliness of his mouth, he washes his face and applies his moisturizer, too lazy to do much else, and then he makes his way back to his room and finds Otabek laying on his bed with his arms crossed behind his head as he waits.

 

_Why is he so stupidly pretty without even trying to be?_ he asks himself as he closes his door behind him. “Miss me?” he asks, quirking a brow.

 

“I suppose,” Otabek answers, a teasing lilt to his voice. “I didn't say this earlier, but your bed is really comfortable.”

 

“Viktor insisted on buying me the most expensive mattress he could find,” Yuri explains with a shrug, plopping himself down beside his boyfriend.

 

“Speaking of Viktor, didn't he tell you to look in your drawer before you go to sleep?” Otabek asks.

 

Yuri scowls, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “I have a feeling I know exactly what he put in my drawer, so I don't think there's a point in checking.”

 

Yuri watches as understanding dawns on him. “...you have a point there,” Otabek concedes, coughing in embarrassment.

 

Biting his lip, Yuri looks down at his lap, twiddling his thumbs nervously. “I don't need to check tonight, but...y'know, I might, um, check at some point before you have to go home, maybe, if you...if you want me to.” God, this is so _awkward_. They haven't really talked about sex yet, since their relationship is so new and they've only just gotten to the point of kissing with tongue, but...look, Yuri is a teenage boy in a relationship with someone he loves very much, someone who happens to be _smoking hot_ and, _look,_ some thoughts just can't be avoided, y'know? And he knows that Otabek is too worried to ever bring it up out of fear of rushing Yuri into something he's not ready for, which is really sweet and all, but Yuri catches the looks he gives him sometimes, feels how much he's restraining himself after a heavy makeout session. And Yuri's obviously nervous because he's inexperienced, but he knows he trusts Otabek completely and _fuck_ , he just wants to experience everything with him.

 

Otabek is silent for what feels like an eternity following Yuri's statement, and Yuri's too embarrassed to look over and see what kind of face he's making. His mind is racing, wondering if maybe he shouldn't have said anything at all, maybe Otabek thinks he's being too forward and maybe he wants to take things slow and Yuri's just gone and made things awkward. But then, he feels a warm hand, slightly clammy with nerves, take him by the chin and gently turn his head so that their eyes meet, and he finds an unreadable expression on Otabek's face. “Yura,” he starts, his voice low and soft, “are you saying what I think you're saying?”

 

Yuri swallows hard. “What do you think I'm saying?” he asks, knowing he's being a little shit but he's too embarrassed to actually say the words.

 

Otabek lets out a shaky breath, hand falling from Yuri's face to take his own instead. “Yuri...sex is a big step, and I want you to be absolutely sure of what you want before you take that step,” he says gently. “I don't want you to rush into something you aren't ready for because I have to leave or something like that. I want you to want that when you're sure that it _is_ what you want.”

 

Yuri looks down, unable to keep looking into those dark, intense eyes. “I know what I want, Otabek. And if you want it...want _me_ , too, then...I don't see a point in waiting, especially since we don't know when we're going to see each other again after this...” He bites his lip, pulling his hand free from Otabek's and bringing his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and resting his chin in the dip between his knees while continuing to avoid Otabek's eyes. “But that's only if you want the same thing, obviously. And it's okay if you don't, because I know we haven't been dating very long and, that aside, maybe you don't even want me like that at all, but I just thought I should be honest―”

 

Those warm hands grip the sides of his face, forcing him to turn his head. When he meets Otabek's eyes again, they're even more intense than they were before, to the point where it's almost overwhelming. “I don't want you to think for one second that I don't want you like that, Yuri,” he tells him, sounding incredibly serious. “Because I do, more than you even realize. I just―” He pauses, swallowing hard. “I just don't want to rush you, because you're so important to me and I...I know this is your first relationship so I just don't ever want to do anything that could make you uncomfortable, but just―just trust me when I say that I _definitely_ want you, you don't need to worry about that. I just want you to be positive that it's something you won't regret, and I don't want you to want it only because you think you have to do it. Because I'll wait as long as you need me to no matter what, Yuri.” His voice goes soft, his thumbs stroking the apples of Yuri's cheeks, and once again, Yuri's heart feels so full that he's scared it's going to burst any second.

 

“I think you worry too much,” Yuri whispers, cracking a smile. “We may have only been dating for a few days now, and I know a lot of people would say that it's too soon for that, but...Beka, I love you, and I've been in love with you long enough to be sure of this. I...I trust you, Beka, one-hundred percent. I want to experience everything with you.”

 

“Yura...” Expression impossibly soft, Otabek leans in, connecting their lips. Yuri lets his legs slide back down onto the bed so they're not blocking him from getting closer, reaching out to tangle a hand in Otabek's hair while the other grips his neck. “I promise I'll do my best to be worthy of that trust,” he breathes against Yuri's lips, kissing him again before slowly pulling away.

 

“Where are you going?” Yuri pouts.

 

Otabek chuckles, laying back against the pillows. “It's late, Yura, and I know you're tired.”

 

Yuri rolls on top of him, propping himself up so he doesn't squish him. “Don't give me that, you fuckin' tease.”

 

Looking vaguely amused, Otabek reaches up to card his hands through Yuri's long hair. “Even though we're on the same page about wanting the same thing, I still think we should take it slow. I'm here for two whole weeks, Yura, there's no rush. And this is the kind of thing that should be eased into.”

 

Yuri snorts. “I wasn't saying we should go all the way tonight or anything, I'm _definitely_ too tired for that at the moment, but...I'm not too tired to make-out with my hot boyfriend for a bit before bed,” he says, grinning.

 

“You know I can't say no to that,” Otabek sighs, an indulgent smile on his lips. Just as he's about to pull Yuri in, however, he's stopped. “Yura?” he questions, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

 

“Listen, Beka, we both know that it's hot as fuck in here and that we're gonna be hotter sharing a bed, so...what if we ditched the shirts tonight?” Yuri asks, forcing himself to maintain eye contact. He doesn't want to be shy, dammit, he's going to prove he's ready for things to start going farther.

 

“You...have a point,” Otabek says slowly. “Are you sure?”

 

Biting his lip, Yuri slides a hand under Otabek's baggy shirt, sliding it up a few inches, and he watches as Otabek's adam's apple bobs almost convulsively in his throat. “Positive,” he answers, taking one of Otabek's hands and placing it on his own hip, where the fabric of his ratty tank top ends in a clear invitation for him to remove it.

 

“You're going to be the death of me,” Otabek mutters before he's surging forward and crushing their lips together, effectively ending the conversation for the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i'm going to keep this fic rated t, but im not opposed to writing _things_ separately, since i still do plan on writing little side fics set in this fic anyway, so if that's something yall would want, let me know \o/ feel free to also let me know what other kinds of side fics you'd like to see, because im open to requests!
> 
> i can't promise i'll be back with another chapter super quickly, but what i CAN promise is that im going to finish this fic. we're nearly at the end, anyway, like there's probably only gonna be like 2 more chapters, maybe even just one more honestly (i'll know for sure when i start writing the next chapter, i guess). if you've been around for a while, than thank you so much for sticking with me this long, and if you're new, then thank you for giving this fic a chance ♥ i'll try my best to get the next chapter out soon!
> 
> if you liked the chapter, feel free to leave me a comment, yall know i love hearing what you think!
> 
> [tumblr](http://promptoargentuhm.tumblr.com) | [consider buying me a coffee if you like my work!](https://ko-fi.com/A11213PY)

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't started splitting the rest up yet, so im not sure if the other chapters will be this long but. here, take this hella long first chapter i guess?
> 
> comments are, as always, very much appreciated! feel free to leave one here, or you can always hmu on [tumblr](http://nikiforohv.tumblr.com) \o/


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